


Endgame the Alternative

by LenoraLana



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Autobots - Freeform, Decepticons - Freeform, F/M, Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:46:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 47
Words: 144,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22905700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LenoraLana/pseuds/LenoraLana
Summary: Co-written a long time ago with PieLadyUSA of Deviantart. This story takes place right where Season 3 of Transformers Animated left off, where Prowl survives and everyone continues their lives and embark on new adventures. Some randomness and craziness ensues as various 'bots fall in love while others pursue their own agendas...
Relationships: Arcee/Ratchet (Transformers), Bumblee/Sari
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

A/N This fic was originally posted on fanfiction.net under the name TehMarishal, and now I’m making it exclusive here. It is heavily based on a dream I had before I actually saw Endgame Part 2. I had to fill in some of the gaps myself with my own creativity, because some areas in the dream weren't clear or I couldn't remember them too well. But this is basically what happened. So if some things don't make sense either character-wise or story-wise, you have been warned. And blame it on the dream, not me XD (BTW: portions of this fic were co-authored by PieLadyUSA of Deviantart)

They all knew that this was it—the biggest battle that they would have to face yet. And it was worse than they could have imagined, for it was not Omega Supreme they would have to defend themselves and the Earth from, but three clones that looked very much like Lugnut.

The three Lugnut-Supremes came down out of the sky, then hovered above the ground. The forward-most one seemed to look down at its Autobot enemies, its single eye gleaming momentarily in the sunlight.

"This is it," Optimus Prime whispered, clutching the Magnus hammer tightly in his grasp. He still didn't feel worthy to touch it, let alone use it. But he had no choice.

"We've got to stop them," Ratchet said, never taking his eyes off of the horror he saw before him. His past was coming back to haunt him more than ever right now, in ways he'd never imagined it would.

"Even if we go offline in the process," Prowl stated. A couple of the others glanced in his direction, but noted the solemn expression he wore on his face, and then they realized he was simply stating a fact. Prowl seemed to have accepted the situation, as well as whatever fate may throw his way. If he went offline during this battle in order to stop Megatron, and protect the Earth… so be it.

"We're all gonna have to keep our wits about us for this one," Jazz commented to no one in particular. He wasn't sure if anyone heard him anyway.

Just then the forward-most of the Lugnut-Supremes opened fire, and all of the Autobots had to leap out of the way, each going in a different direction, as energy blasted into the ground. Dirt was thrown up in every direction and when the dust cleared, an enormous crater was seen where the Autobots had been standing mere moments ago.

Optimus roared a battle cry as he jumped into the air, kicking on his jet boosters to their max and gritting his teeth. He held the Magnus hammer ever more firmly his grasp, prepared yet not prepared to use it.

He was aware of Prowl following just behind him, and he knew that the ninja was the only bot who could serve as backup in this instance, since Prowl was the only one who could fly. Well, other than Sari of course, but part of him hoped she wasn't following—at least not too closely if she was.

What happened next happened almost too quickly for Prime to remember clearly later on. The Lugnut-Supremes were firing upon the Earth now, raising their arms and shooting huge bursts of fire and energy into the ground.

The terrible screams and shrieks of frightened humans, accompanied by the terrible stench of smoke and burning buildings and pavement. "Prowl!" Optimus yelled, "You're with me! Everyone else—protect the city, get the humans to safety!"

"NO way, Prime," Sari shouted, even as another wave of energy fireballs poured down from the sky. "I'm the only other one who has a jetpack, I'm coming with you!"

Optimus found he couldn't argue, mostly because they were running out of time. Omega Supreme's giant clones were getting closer and would only continue to wreck more havoc the closer they got. "Fine!" Optimus said. "Prowl, you'll cover my flank—Sari, you will cover Prowl." That would give Sari a bit more distance, at least—he trusted her capabilities because she'd more than proven herself, but she was still a rookie in his optics.

"The rest of you are with Jazz—protect the humans!" Prime shouted. With that his armor mask went up around his face protectively, as did Prowl's. Sari already had her helmet up, so she simply proceeded to fly upward.

"Don't get ahead of me, Sari," Prowl warned, increasing his speed a little.

"I've got point," Optimus reminded them both, moving ahead of them both. He kept one optic on where he was going but also took a moment to glance at the hammer. "I just hope I can use this thing," he said, too quietly for anyone else to hear.

As they neared the giant clones, Prowl suddenly came to a halt and grabbed Sari out of mid-air, forcing her to stop. Optimus Prime, not even noticing they'd stopped, kept on moving forward.

"Hey!" Sari shouted indignantly. "What's the big idea?"

Prowl released her. "I want you to wait a moment," he told her. "Remember what I have taught you—hold back until you can see a clear advantage."

"Well what good is that doing me now?" Sari snipped. "Prime's going straight up to them and—"

Prowl held up a finger. "I have a plan," he said simply. "You will know when to move forward."

0o0o0o0o0

"Let's get these humans to the tower," Jazz shouted over the noise of warfare and frightened screams. "It's the only safe place around for them right now."

"I agree," Ratchet called out. Bumblebee and Bulkhead had already taken on their vehicle modes, and humans were beginning to pile up into them. Ratchet and Jazz each transformed as well, taking in as many humans as they could before taking off.

"Let's go at a slow pace so other humans can follow us," Bulkhead said. He was the largest, but even he couldn't take all of the remaining ones.

"Good idea," Bumblebee remarked. However, being his usual self, he went a bit faster than everyone else.

Ratchet grumbled a little when he realized some humans were climbing up onto his roof and hanging onto his sides. He did permit it though, considering they were frightened and they did need to be taken to safety.

"This may take several trips back and fourth, to get them all to safety," Jazz commented.

"Unfortunately I won't be joining you on the trip back out here," Ratchet informed him.

"What?" Bulkhead exclaimed. "But—"

"I need to use the transwarp gate to get to the moon," Ratchet said. "If I can get to Omega Supreme, he might be able to help us." And I must see if I can get to Arcee, he thought.

0o0o0o0o0

Sari hovered just behind Prowl, disliking the fact that she couldn't do anything at the moment, but she trusted her friend's judgment. After all, she was actually part of the plan this time around, and there was a reason she had to wait. She was no longer being told "go home" or "it's too dangerous". She simply needed to wait so that she would have a key advantage to do more damage, plus she didn't need to get hurt before she could do anything advantageous.

Optimus Prime was dodging energy beams that were being fired from the giant clones. He gripped the Magnus hammer firmly in his grasp and summoned it to prepare its energy for firing.

Storm clouds appeared overhead in response to the hammer's power, and an energy surge erupted from the end of the weapon, shooting upward toward the clouds. Then lightening began to appear in the sky, flashing almost at random, then three powerful and well-aimed bolts of lightening struck each of the Clones in the torso, causing each one to get knocked off-course a bit. Both of them lit up as the energy impacted them; sparks could be seen flying off of them as well as smoke, accompanied by the stench of metal and circuitry starting to overheat.

The energy died down and the storm clouds overhead began to dissipate. It then became apparent that the Clones, however damaged, were not finished putting up a fight yet. They began to fire openly at Prime, although all of their misses simply rained down on the city below, adding to the massive destruction that had already taken place down there.

Prime looked like an annoying mosquito compared to the Clones, especially since the hammer had powered down for the moment. He was too busy dodging the fire to concentrate on focusing its power again.

Prowl, however, was already in the process of doing something. He hovered in place in mid-air, out of the way of the fire coming from the Clones, but not too far away either. Sari hovered right behind him, her eyes glued on Optimus, wishing she could go forward to help.

A low, vibrating hum emitted from Prowl's vocalizer, a sound that was almost completely drowned out by the noise of warfare all around. He was attempting to utilize his processor over matter skill to disrupt the circuitry within the giant Clones.

Only as he began to concentrate, Sari yelled out Prime's name and began to fly forward. This disrupted Prowl's concentration and he called out after her, "Sari stop! Come back here!"

However, the girl wasn't attacking. She simply flew downward and approaching the nearest Clone's heel. She then placed her hand on its heel, closed her eyes, and concentrated. A moment later her eyes snapped open and she gasped, then turned and made a bee-line back toward Prowl.

"Prowl!" she shouted, coming toward him, "I found out something!"

"What?" Prowl asked her, instantly forgetting her disobedience. Perhaps there had been a method to her madness after all.

"The Clones are being controlled by Lugnut," she informed him. "If their link to him can somehow be disrupted, then—"

"There would be no one to control them," Prowl concluded. He nodded. "Well done, Sari. Now stay back."

He flexed his arms, then brought his hands together in front of him to steeple his fingers. Then he concentrated as hard as he could, once again humming and focusing all of his attention on breaking the link between the Clones and their current controller.

0o0o0o0o0

Shockwave was still attempting to get the data patch by working on Arcee's processor circuitry. However, just as he was starting to make some progress, he heard a noise behind him. Something that sounded like—

—A Transwarp bubble forming and someone emerging!

Shockwave whirled around just in time to glimpse a red-and-white bot vanish from sight, and a blue Transwarp orb wink out of existence.

"Come out, whoever you are!" Shockwave snapped, raising his weapon. Upon receiving no reply, he moved forward cautiously to see if he could get a better look.

Just as he started to round the corner of the doorway, he got hit by a blast of magnetic energy that both immobilized him and snatched his weapon away from him.

Then the magnetic blast sent him crashing into the opposite wall, then the reddish aura of the magnetic field vanished. Shockwave groaned and sat up, looking at his attacker.

"You again!" Shockwave spat, narrowing his optic.

"Yeah, me again," Ratchet replied dryly, taking a step forward. He held up his left arm—the one that wielded his EMP device. "I really hate it when I have to use this thing, even on a Decepticon. But…"

With a frown, Ratchet raised his arm, and Shockwave only had enough time to blink before he was hit with the blast that knocked him temporarily offline.

0o0o0o0o0

Megatron already knew that things were going wrong—terribly wrong, in fact. For some reason he'd lost contact with Shockwave—his skillful double-agent failed to respond when he tried contacting him for a status report. On top of that, something seemed to be disrupting Lugnut's link to the Clones, at least somewhat. Furthermore, that pesky, cheap imitation of Ultra Magnus out there was proving to be quite handy with that hammer.

I must get back to the moon, Megatron thought. He needed to find out what was going on back there, and regain control of the situation before he lost complete control of the Clones.

So he exited the Clone he had been occupying, transforming into his vehicle mode and taking off into the sky, as quickly as he could.

0o0o0o0o0

Ratchet quickly realized that, as much as he hated to leave Omega Supreme, he had no choice but to go back to Earth. He needed to get Arcee out of there, and it would only be a matter of time before Shockwave woke up. Plus he honestly had no idea if Megatron had any more Decepticons with him up there—or any traps or "surprises", for that matter.

I'll be back for you, old friend, he thought to Omega, dearly hoping that the bigger bot somehow heard him. But I have to get Arcee out of here.

With that he scooped her up into his arms, summoned the Transwarp bubble, and headed back to Sumdac Tower on Earth.

0o0o0o0o0

Sari was beginning to feel a little useless, since she'd already done all that she could. Prowl seemed to be disrupting the link that enabled control over the Clones, one by one, and Prime was still working with the Magnus hammer. It seemed that, so long as they managed to keep from getting themselves shot, they were going to gradually win this battle.

However, energy and fire were still being fired upon the city, as any blast that was shot simply went down on Detroit itself.

"Sari!" came a sudden voice over her commlink, and she pressed a finger against the side of her helmet. "Yeah?" she said.

"Ratchet. If they can spare you up there, I need you for something urgent."

Sari glanced at Prowl, then muttered, "I'm not really needed up here right now, I don't think… on my way."

After casting one last look toward Optimus Prime, she whispered, "Good luck guys… stay safe up here." Then she flew away, toward Ratchet's position.

0o0o0o0o0

Starscream, with some difficulty, had managed to pull himself together, just barely. Once he got his body and limbs reattached, he slowly stood up and then had to twist his head a little to get it positioned right.

He was cracked all over, and he ached in places he didn't even know he had. But this wasn't the time to focus on that—he was going to go and make Megatron pay, once and for all.

He just had to figure out how.

Looking around, he then noticed that a lone Omega Supreme was still standing there on the moon, unmoving. "Hmmm," Starscream purred as a sly smile formed on his lips. "Maybe if I can regain control of Omega Supreme, I can finally finish Megatron once and for all!"

Cackling, Starscream switched to his jet mode—somewhat painfully—and zoomed off toward Omega Supreme.

0o0o0o0o0

Things were beginning to take an ugly turn for Optimus Prime in the battle against the clones. He'd managed to inflict considerable damage upon all three of them, but they were now ganging up on him. They had closed in to the point where they had completely surrounded him, concentrating everything they had on him. Optimus simply did not have any more time to spare any attention whatsoever on firing up the Magnus hammer again. He knew it was only going to be a matter of time before he was slagged, and good.

Prowl could see this, and he knew that there was only one thing he could do. He had noticed Sari's departure a few moments ago, and he was glad that the girl was out of harm's way.

He began to hum again, allowing himself to slip into a deep trance. He sunk deeper and deeper into the feel of the Allspark power that was all around—he didn't draw fragments to him, exactly, he simply drew from their energy and combined it with the energy in his systems—and the energy within his own spark.

His body began to glow brightly, and he moved toward the three Clones. Then quite suddenly, three powerful beams of blue-white energy erupted from his body—one from each of his hands, one from his right foot—and impacted the Clones.

The bright aura began to fade from his body, although what he'd done had apparently been enough. One of the giant Clones had sustained enough damage so that it let off an impressive display of flying sparks, and then it went downward, crashing into the ground below in a lifeless heap. That just left two to deal with.

One of the two turned to regard Prowl for a moment, then fired at him. Prowl was almost completely drained of energy so he was unable to move or even react. He vaguely heard Prime shout his name as the energy blast impacted his chest, sending him crashing down to the ground below.

Prowl landed roughly in the middle of a junkyard, crashing into a pile of dirt and debris. Upon crashing, he did not move, and the blue light in his visor winked out as he went offline.

0o0o0o0o0

Optimus Prime was well-aware that Prowl had fallen, but he couldn't go after him or even spare a moment to check on him via-commlink, not now. The ninja bot had give him a clear advantage by damaging two of the Clones and destroying one of them, and he couldn't let that advantage go to waste.

With a loud battle-cry, Optimus held the Magnus hammer up high and used his strength to summon the weapon to prepare for another energy blast. Maybe, just maybe, those two remaining clones were damaged enough so that he could take them out with a final blast.

0o0o0o0o0

Jazz, Bumblebee and Bulkhead had managed to get quite a few humans from around the area into the Tower, and they were still bringing more in. Sumdac was up on the roof trying to keep the force field online, and he was also busy raising it and lowering as he needed to in order to let the Autobots bring more people inside.

Ratchet had just arrived with Arcee in his arms, and Sari arrived a few minutes later to greet him.

"Is that… Arcee?" Sari asked in wonder. When she'd first met Ratchet, he never wanted to talk about the femme, or anything related to the war, at all. But after that first encounter with Lockdown, where the bounty hunter had tried to capture Optimus, Ratchet had gradually begun to talk more and more about the war with anyone who seemed even remotely interested.

And Arcee had gotten mentioned a lot.

"Yeah," Ratchet replied with a nod. "Look, kiddo… I've seen what you can do with those scanning abilities of yours. I need you to see if you can figure out how to bring Arcee back online."

"Sure," Sari said and stepped forward. Ratchet stooped down so that Sari could easily reach the femme in his arms, and she placed a hand on Arcee's forearm. The girl's hand glowed brightly as she concentrated.

After a moment or two, Sari withdrew her hand. "You need to recalibrate your EMP generator into a recovery tool, then you can salvage Arcee's secondary memory storage from her hard drive."

Ratchet cocked his head to one side, narrowing his optics. He still didn't put his complete trust in her… odd diagnoses, because he still wasn't sure how she was doing it in the first place. However, she had proved many times already that she was never wrong.

Sighing, he lifted his arm and brought out his EMP generator, then held that arm out toward her. "I hope you're right about this, kid," he said. "Give me the settings."

0o0o0o0o0

Megatron had arrived on the moon to find Lugnut looking like he'd blown a circuit, and Shockwave just coming back online.

"You incompetent fools!" Megatron snapped at them once he learned what happened to Shockwave, and that Lugnut had managed to lose one of the Clones. "Do I have to do everything myself?"

He growled, then pretty much answered his own question by saying, "Of course I would be doing this by myself right now, if it weren't for Starscream and the fact that Lugnut got in my way…"

"I still might be able to rig up a data patch," Shockwave said. "I managed to save some of the intelligence officer's codes to my own processor before she was taken."

"Then get to it!" Megatron snapped. "Lugnut, are you still in control of the remaining clones?"

"Yes my liege!" came the reply.

"Good," Megatron said. "Destroy that annoying Autobot, then proceed to destroy Sumdac Tower."

0o0o0o0o0o

On the ground where Prowl had fallen, there was no one around and it was quite an ugly sight. Of course, junkyards would never be considered a tourist attraction anyway, but this one looked worse with the sight of damage from weapons' blasts, plus the stench of burning tires and who-knew-what-else.

But in the very spot where Prowl had fallen, the dirt and debris shifted slightly. Then a hand slowly came up out of the dirt, accompanied by another hand and then a groan. Gradually, Prowl pulled himself up out of the dirt, then collapsed on the ground beside the mound.

For a moment he simply lay there, trying to gather some of his remaining strength. It took him a moment to remember where he was and what he had been doing previously, but once the memory came to him, he quickly sat up. Dirt and debris fell away from his exposed circuitry as he moved, although some of it stubbornly clung to his armor.

"Oh," Prowl moaned and placed a servo on his forehead. "I seem to have… over-exerted myself up there." Then, ignoring the pain, he glanced upward. He looked just in time to see one of the Clones begin to fall from the sky as it sparked violently, appearing to be nothing more than a smoking heap of scrap metal now.

"Prime, along with my energy surge, must have taken out two of them, for I only see one left," Prowl exclaimed to himself. "I should join him."

His jetpack spit and sputtered for a moment, as if arguing with him about being put into use after all that punishment. But they finally sprang to life, and he kicked off of the ground and moved to rejoin his leader in the sky.

0o0o0o0o0

Megatron was furious. Another of the Clones was lost, and the way things were looking, it wouldn't be long before the third one was lost as well.

"I believe it is time for a change of plans," Megatron said. "Shockwave, did you manage to get the original codes from that female Autobot?"

"Yes I did," Shockwave acknowledged.

"Good, we will then allow the final Clone to serve as a distraction on Earth while we make our getaway in Omega Supreme himself," Megatron answered. "You have done well, my most loyal servant."

That got a reaction out of Lugnut, who then seemed to completely forget what he was supposed to be doing. "Lord Megatron, you said I was your most trusted servant!" the big lug exclaimed, and he actually stood up and made a move toward Shockwave, the cords sparking as he yanked away from them.

"Oh don't start that again," Shockwave said in annoyance. "I am simply trying to do my job!"

"But I am more loyal than you!"

Megatron felt a massive processor ache coming on, especially as the argument continued to ensue. They'd already been through this once already, and this was not something he wanted to deal with. Not after the loss of the Supreme Clones he was facing.

"ENOUGH!" Megatron finally bellowed, then used his fists to knock each of them across the room. He'd put up with enough of this nonsense and he wasn't about to put up with any more.

"Master, please forgive me for displeasing you!" Lugnut predictably gushed, bowing down on his servos and knee-joints after he'd recovered.

"Just get out of this room!" Megatron spat. "And Shockwave, upload those codes into Omega, NOW!"

"Yes, my liege," Shockwave said, rubbing his sore shoulder joint warily.

0o0o0o0o0

Ratchet finished using his EMP on Arcee, who responded almost instantly.

"Ratchet?" she said, looking at him with wide, blue optics. "Did we get away from Lockdown?"

"You remember?" Ratchet asked, grabbing her shoulders and looking at her face. "You really remember what happened?"

"I remember… we were captured by Lockdown, and then there was some sort of blast," Arcee replied. "After that… nothing." She seemed to be trying to think, though she also seemed to consider Ratchet's presence a good sign.

Ratchet smiled warmly. Maybe some of the horrors of the past were finally starting to be fixed, so to speak. She remembers! He thought to himself, his smile widening into a full grin. "Then we'll have time to talk later about the stellar-cycles you've missed," Ratchet said.

"Stellar-cycles?" Arcee blinked. "Was I… offline all that time?"

"Sort of," Ratchet said hesitantly. Then he pulled her into a tight embrace, surprising them both. "Arcee… it is so good to see you again."

0o0o0o0o0

The third and final Clone seemed to lose its equilibrium or something at the last moment, for it no longer seemed to pay any attention to anything around it. Optimus Prime took full advantage of this, using the Magnus hammer for one final, full blast.

That did it. The final Clone was destroyed, and it was sent crashing to the ground below.

The battle was now over. Optimus lowered the hammer and turned to look at Prowl. A silent acknowledgement went between them: It's over.

"You're damaged," Optimus commented as he looked at Prowl.

"I will survive," Prowl said off-handedly with a slight shrug. "Perhaps we should check on the others."

"Right," Optimus said. "But right after that you are going to let Ratchet take a look at you. You definitely need to have that damage patched up."

Then the Prime reached out and placed a hand on the ninja's shoulder. "And… thanks. For everything." Optimus smiled. "I need to thank everyone personally."

Prowl simply smiled, and the two of them began to head toward Sumdac Tower.

0o0o0o0o0

Shockwave managed to get Omega Supreme fired up, and Megatron took full control of him. They weren't able to do this beforehand because Lugnut had inadvertently messed up the settings somehow or other while he was hooked up to Omega.

But now they were able to take off into space once again, away from Earth and out of this blasted system.

Megatron was, however, confident that they would be back again someday. It was only a matter of time. All he needed was a new plan, and new resources.

0o0o0o0o0

Starscream hid in the storage area of Omega Supreme, where he could effectively hitch a ride and stay out of sight, effectively waiting for the right moment to try and gain the upper hand again.

Someday, he vowed, he was going to take Megatron down. It was only a matter of time. Starscream smiled. I just have to wait for the right moment! He thought with an evil chuckle.


	2. Chapter 2

"So what happened then?" Arcee asked curiously. She was sitting on the edge of a berth where Ratchet had asked her to sit. He was already satisfied that she was fully functional once again, almost as though no time had passed for her at all since they'd escaped from Lockdown. But he'd asked her to remain in the medical room so he could fill her in.

"Well," Ratchet said with a sigh, "I think you've heard all of the important details. I'll fill you in more on the rest later."

"But—" Arcee started, then stopped herself. "Well, I can see you still have your hands full with your patient," she acknowledged after a moment, looking at Prowl.

"Don't worry," Ratchet told her, taking a moment to glance at her over his shoulder with a smile. "We'll have plenty of time to catch up on everything."

"I am grateful for everything you've told me so far," Arcee said with a smile of her own. Then she glanced at Prowl again. "Is he going to be alright?" she asked.

Prowl was currently lying motionless on the berth nearby, with his form outstretched and his blue visor dimmed to minimal lighting.

"He'll be fine," Ratchet assured her, though he said that for Prowl's benefit too. "He was pretty banged up out there, but I've already gotten most of the damage fixed, and right now he's just conserving energy."

Now he glanced at Arcee again. "That reminds me—could you get me a couple of energon cubes from the dispenser? He will need to replenish his fuel supply."

"Certainly," Arcee acknowledged, then moved to do as he asked.

With that, Prowl stirred a little. Indeed, as Ratchet had said, he was simply conserving energy with one of the meditation methods he'd learned from Yoketron all those stellar cycles ago, where one could slow the function of their own body down to slow the depletion of energon reserves.

"How do you feel?" Ratchet asked the ninja.

"Much improved," Prowl replied. "Although… I would not want to do that again." He smiled ever so slightly.

Ratchet chuckled, and then he felt Arcee pressing the energon cubes into his hands. "Thanks," he told her and then turned his full attention back to Prowl. "Alright, time for you to refuel," he said, holding out one of the cubes to the ninja. "Just… take it slow and easy. Your systems are still recovering and you don't want to overdo it."

With that, Prowl took out of the cubes and both Ratchet and Arcee lent a servo in helping him sit up, then they supported him in that position while he drank from the energon cube. Once he'd depleted its contents, Ratchet handed him the second one. After it was empty, Ratchet nodded to Arcee and they both eased him back down against the berth.

"Really you both don't have to make such a fuss over me," Prowl told them. "I'll be fine."

"Yes you will be," Ratchet said, "but if you'd gotten any more banged up out there you might not have made it. And like I said, your systems are still recovering. So you just lay there and stay quiet for a while."

"I would prefer to go back to my room to meditate."

Ratchet sighed. "Well, I suppose there is no harm in that. Just take it easy, and don't go anywhere."

With a nod Prowl slowly nose, holding up his hands in a gesture to indicate he wanted no further assistance. With that he left the medical bay.

"You sure you should have released him so soon?" Arcee asked with concern.

Ratchet chuckled. "It's hard to keep him cooped up," the medic replied. "I think he'd get more rest in his room than in here anyway, so long as he remembers to take it easy."

The medic disposed of the empty energon cubes, then turned to Arcee. "Now, let's continue our talk," he told her. "And I'll also give you a tour of the base."

0o0o0o0o0

"How did I get stuck with this duty?" Bumblebee complained out loud as he glared at a datapad in his servo. "The only thing more boring than taking inventory is monitor duty!"

The Autobot Council on Cybertron had ordered everyone to pack everything up because they wanted them to return home as soon as possible.

Jazz and Optimus had gone to Dinobot Island to try and reason with the Dinobots to come with them—as well as Scrapper—because when the Autobots were gone, there would be no one else around to keep an eye on them. Bumblebee knew that Prowl was in recovery, Ratchet was tending to his duties and talking to Arcee, and Bulkhead was at Sumdac tower helping to repair the damage, and making sure the Transwarp Gate was in tip-top shape. Meanwhile, Sari was out on an assignment to track down Wreck-Gar, in the hopes of convincing him to come with them as well.

So that left poor Bumblebee to do the work of inventory, to catalog all their collective supplies, belongings and junk, to determine what to get rid of and what to pack up. "I'm totally going to make sure nobody throws out my video games," Bumblebee muttered, marking his games down on the "priority" area of the list.

When he was about half-way through making the list, he finally determined that he was due for a break. All of this cataloging was giving him a severe processor ache, and he felt he owed it to himself to take a break. Besides, once they got back to Cybertron, there was no telling when he would be able to play his games again.

So he went into the social room and plopped himself down in front of the giant TV screen, grabbing his game console. "Oh yeah!" he exclaimed with a grin. "Time for some Ninja Gladiator FUN!"

0o0o0o0o0o0

Talking to Scrapper proved to be easier than Prime had originally thought. He seemed slightly reluctant to leave the area where Mixmaster had last been seen, but he otherwise sounded more than willing to go to Cybertron. And Snarl, being his ever loyal pet, was wiling to go wherever Scrapper went.

Grimlock and Swoop, on the other hand, were like birds of a feather to coin the phrase, and refused to go anywhere with those unlike themselves.

"But Snarl is coming with us," Optimus tried to reason with the robotic T-rex. "Why don't you come with all of us?"

"Me Grimlock not speaking to him!" Grimlock said grumpily. "Him traitor—Dinobots not pets."

They went back and fourth like this for a full three cycles. Optimus and Jazz had just barely managed to approach them in the first place without a fight breaking out, and now it was looking more and more unlikely that they would come at all.

Finally Grimlock stomped off, with Swoop following right behind him.

Optimus turned to Jazz, sighing in resignation. "Maybe I should ask Prowl to come out here and talk to them when he's feeling up to it," Prime said.

Jazz nodded. "Might be for the best," he commented. "The Dinobots seem to be stubborn beasts."

"Don't I know it," Optimus murmured, placing a wary hand on his forehead. "Well, if nothing else we should get Scrapper and Snarl back to the base."

0o0o0o0o0

Prowl smiled in the privacy of his room. The door behind him was closed, and he was staring upward at his tree, his optics dimmed to minimum. He could still see the beauty of the early morning sunlight beaming through the hole in his room, illuminating the green leaves and a pair of butterflies that fluttered about above his head. But he was also relaxing in a deep meditative state, relaxing and allowing both his mind and body to recuperate.

He slipped deeper and deeper into his relaxed state, to the point where all expression left his face and he was barely aware of anything around him.

He managed to forget about the events of the past few months almost entirely, at least for the next few minutes. Now that he had mastered his training, he was able to be aware of his surroundings while being completely at peace.

If anyone or anything entered his room, he would know immediately. But at the same time, he would not snap out of his trance-like meditative mode until he chose to. He had ultimate power and control over his body now.

0o0o0o0o0o

Back on Cybertron, Sentinel Prime was in a very bad mood. The council had just received word of everything that had happened on Earth, and now everyone was seeing Optimus as some kind of hero.

Sentinel tried to reason with the council, telling them that Optimus had still allowed Megatron to get away. Not only that, but that it had been Optimus Prime's fault in the first place that Megatron had Omega Supreme in his hands and nearly caused a complete catastrophe to occur as a result.

"Sentinel Prime," Alpha Trion said, his tone suggesting that his patience was growing thin, "I am well-aware of all these things, as is the rest of the council. But it seems that any mistakes made by Optimus Prime were then resolved or corrected by him, one way or another."

"His crew also stole Ultra Magnus's hammer and Optimus used it in battle!" Sentinel said, trying to reason from that angle. If he couldn't win with logic, then trying to use the emotional angle sometimes worked. "That hammer belongs to the Magnus. Since I am acting Magnus, it should have been given into my possession for safe-keeping."

"Be that as it may," Alpha Trion said, "Optimus Prime still did the best he could under the circumstances. And," he added, "I will point out that it was not Optimus who took the hammer. Ratchet did thus without his knowledge or consent."

"But Optimus should have ordered for the hammer to be returned to Cybertron immediately after he heard about it," Sentinel snapped. "That was his responsibility. Instead he kept it for himself, to use like some glory-hound to make himself look good."

"He stopped three clones of Omega Supreme," Perceptor spoke up, his voice as cold and stoic as always. "He would have needed the hammer to accomplish this, even with the aide of his crew."

Sentinel came very close to growing. Why couldn't the council see things his way? Why couldn't they see Optimus as the glory-clog who stole the hammer, caused Jazz to betray him, and permitted Megatron to get away? Why were they only looking at the good things that Optimus had done? Were they that narrow-minded?

But before he could try and come up with a good defense, a new voice spoke. "I would like to address the Council, now."

Heads turned and there was a collective gasp as Ultra Magnus himself entered the room. He was not carrying his hammer—that was still on Earth, with Optimus Prime. But he was back on his own two feet now, at least. One of his aides stood close by, ready to lend assistance should he need it. By the mere presence of the aide, and the way his face looked, it was pretty obvious that Ultra Magnus had not yet made a full recovery, but his condition was much improved.

"Um, Ultra Magnus!" Sentinel exclaimed with a hasty salute. "Are you… recovered, sir?"

"I am better, Sentinel Prime," Ultra Magnus said with a glance in his direction. Then he turned his attention to the full council. "I will not be here long, but I do have an announcement to make."

"What is it?" Alpha Trion asked.

"That is something that will have to wait," Ultra Manus informed him. "Until Optimus Prime arrives here." His eyes narrowed every so slightly, yet somehow it seemed like a thoughtful expression more than anything else. "With my hammer," he added.

0o0o0o0o0

Optimus Prime and Jazz caught Bumblebee playing video games as soon as they got back to the plant. And while Optimus began to give the little yellow bot a lecture—not the first, and probably not the last—about playing games while on duty, Jazz excused himself to go and check on Prowl.

Upon entering the medical bay, Jazz was surprised to find it empty. Although he figured it made sense, since Prowl never liked to be cooped up anywhere and Ratchet would no doubt want to help Arcee catch up on what she'd missed plus show her around. So he figured the next good place to check was Prowl's room.

Jazz knocked on the door, but received no answer. But instead of leaving he opened the door and peeked inside. Sure enough Prowl was in there, as still as a statue and looking completely at peace. Somehow his meditative stance in itself seemed peaceful; there was no longer any rigidity to it.

"Hey Prowl, you're looking good," the white mech told him softly. "You definitely look better than you did after the battle."

Prowl's head turned ever so slightly in his direction. He wasn't looking fully at Jazz, but the white ninja could see the corner of his visor aimed in his direction. Prowl was looking at him out of the corner of his optics. "I feel much better, especially now," the black-and-gold mech informed him.

"Well I'll leave you be," Jazz said with a smile. "I just wanted to check up on ya."

"Wait," Prowl said as Jazz turned to go. The other ninja then turned back to face Prowl. "How did the mission to Dinobot Island go?"

"Well," Jazz said, "Scrap and Snarl have agreed to journey with us, but the two other Dinobots refuse to ditch their scene. Prime mentioned that maybe when you feel up to it, you could go talk to them."

Prowl's chin dipped ever so slightly in a thoughtful manner. "I think I am feeling up to it now," he said. "I will see what I can do." With that he rose and moved toward the door.

"Hold on, you sure you're up to it?" Jazz asked, holding up a hand as Prowl approached the door.

"I am," Prowl said with a nod.

0o0o0o0o0o

Optimus had just finished talking to Bumblebee and sent him to the back of the plant to finish the inventory work. Then he received a call from Cybertron, so he went to tend to that—and so he didn't even notice Jazz and Prowl heading out together through the front door.

The call he received was from none other than Ultra Magnus himself. Optimus gave a start when he recognized the Autobot leader on the screen, but recovered quickly. "Ultra Magnus," Optimus exclaimed, "It's good to see you back on your feet, sir."

Ultra Magnus smiled ever so slightly, then turned serious. "Optimus Prime, I must speak with you in person, before the Council, as soon as possible."

"Well I have already received my orders to take my crew back to Cybertron as soon as possible," Optimus said. "We are in the process of finishing everything up here and packing."

"I'm afraid that this will not wait," Ultra Magnus said. "Allow your crew to cover for you while you're absent, with whatever needs to be done. But I want you to transwarp here on the double as soon as possible. I need you to appear before the Council, with the hammer, where I will make a public announcement."

"Um, but what about my crew?"

"I am sure they will manage in your absence. They seem quite capable."

"No I mean, will I return to them after this is over?"

"Yes."

"Very well, I'm on my way." Optimus cocked his head to one side. "This sounds important, sir."

"It is." A look flashed across Ultra Magnus's eyes, one that Optimus couldn't figure out how to read. But before Optimus could say a word, the Magnus said, "Come to Cybertron, Optimus. Right away. Ultra Magnus out."

The screen went blank.

Optimus wasn't sure what to make of this. But he decided that it was time to test out Ratchet's repair job on his new jetpack. He grabbed the hammer, which had been leaning against the wall, then headed out through the front door.

Once he was outside, he contacted everyone via commlink to inform them where he was going. Then he turned on his jet boosters, kicked up off the ground, and began to head toward Sumdac Tower, grasping the hammer tightly in his servos.


	3. Chapter 3

"So… why do you think they want to talk to you in person so… suddenly?" Bulkhead asked, glancing up from the Transwarp Gate's controls.

"I have no idea," Optimus Prime said. He glanced up at the Gate, then found himself looking back toward the city. Sumdac Tower was the tallest structure in Detroit, and one could definitely see a lot from up here.

"All I know," Optimus continued, turning back to Bulkhead, "is that I've been ordered to appear before the council… with the Magnus hammer." He looked down at the hammer in his hands, which seemed to shine slightly in response to his words.

"Well good luck, Boss-bot," Bulkhead said, and began to fire up the Gate.

A giant blue orb appeared in the center of the Gate, and Optimus knew that this was it. He straightened, held his head—and the hammer—up high, and jumped through.

The next thing he knew, his feet landed firmly on the familiar, smooth ground of Cybertron itself.

There were a few other bots nearby, although no one he could recognize. Some of them didn't take much notice of him and simply tended to their duties, but others—especially the ones closest to him—stopped and stared at him.

What? Optimus thought. Then he remembered that he was carrying the Magnus hammer. Plus they might have been gawking at his jetpack, for all he knew. As a rule, Autobots still didn't fly—the only exceptions were Jetfire and Jetstorm—not to mention Omega Supreme.

"Optimus," came a familiar voice, and it caused Optimus to wince ever so slightly before turning to face the person.

"Sentinel," Optimus greeted with a civil but somewhat dry tone. "Figures I'd see you here."

"I've been ordered to escort you directly to the Council chambers," Sentinel said with a sneer. "I have no idea what this is all about, but they definitely want that hammer back. You know, it was wrong for you to keep it in the first place, Optimus."

"I had no intention of keeping it," Optimus said with a patience he didn't feel. "My crew and I were holding it until Ultra Magnus was back on his feet. Now that he's up and about, I will happily give it back."

"But you used it in battle without permission!" Sentinel said, poking a finger into Optimus's chassis. "That is just wrong on many counts, and I'm sure Ultra Magnus isn't going to take kindly to it."

"Well then let's go to the Council chambers and see what he actually has to say," Optimus said, impatience finally showing in his voice. "After all, you are here to escort me, right?"

Sentinel glared. "Yeah I am," he said. "But first I want you to hand over the Magnus hammer." He held out his hands toward the weapon. "I will relieve you of the responsibility of carrying it now—especially since you weren't supposed to have it in the first place."

Optimus glared now, and gripped the hammer's handle more tightly, taking a step back. "Why should I hand it to you?" he asked.

"Because I will give it back to Ultra Magnus personally!" Sentinel snapped.

Several onlookers were staring in their direction now, although neither of them paid much attention to the fact that they'd gained an audience. Some of the other bystanders moved away, going back to their own business, but others continued to watch them, and listen.

"Look Sentinel, I was ordered to come here with the Magnus hammer and to appear before the Council," Optimus said. "I am quite capable of handing Ultra Magnus's possession back to him all on my own."

"Yeah right," Sentinel said. "You had to be summoned back to Cybertron before you would even seriously think about giving it back."

Optimus came very close to growling, but instead he simply spoke with an exaggerated patience. "Sentinel, I only just received word that Ultra Magnus was back on his feet, when he himself contacted me a couple of hours ago. On top of that, my crew and I have been busy trying to round up a few… stragglers on Earth and finish packing up everything to—"

"I don't want to hear your fraggin' excuses, Optimus!" Sentinel snapped. "Now just hand over the Magnus hammer!"

The bots in the gathering crowd were starting to whisper to each other, some of them pointing while others simply looked on with widened optics.

"I've had enough of this," Optimus muttered and started to move past Sentinel.

Sentinel began to protest and attempted to block his path only to get hit in the face by Optimus's wing as he passed by. In truth it was an accident, because Optimus still wasn't used to having jet wings on his back and didn't notice where they were in relation to Sentinel's face. However, Optimus did not bother to stop and apologize.

"Of all the lousy—" Sentinel spat, then noticed for the first time that he was being stared at by at least a couple dozen onlookers. "What are all of you gawking at?" he snapped, causing some of the closest ones to jump. "Get out of here! Get back to work!"

Some of them scurried off, although a few of them lingered. Sentinel was no longer paying attention though—he'd begun to go stomping after Optimus, grumbling under his breath all the way.

0o0o0o0o0

Jazz lingered behind as Prowl began to slowly approach Grimlock and Swoop, deciding that it was best for him to simply stay out of the way entirely. Jazz did not want to provoke them or distract them at all while Prowl spoke to them.

"Grimlock," Prowl called out, and the robotic T-Rex's head came up to look at him. "It's me, Prowl," the black-and-gold bot said, placing his hands on his chassis for emphasis. "Your friend."

"Ah, bike-bot good," Grimlock said, peering down at him. "Bike-bot friend… but bike-bot look different!"

Prowl chuckled. "Yes I've had a few upgrades," he said. He hadn't realized that he had not visited Dinobot Island since he'd installed his master's helmet and the side-car upgrades.

"Me Grimlock not like new look," Grimlock said, taking a step back. "New look, bad."

Prowl heard a slight chuckling sound behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw an amused expression on Jazz's face, who then looked at Prowl apologetically.

"Grimlock," Prowl said, turning his attention back to the Dinobot leader, and choosing to ignore the comment, "I want you to come with me and my friends."

"Go where?" Grimlock asked. Swoop let out a shrill, bird-like sound, but otherwise said nothing. Unless the bird-like noises could be counted as his form of communication, that is.

"To Cybertron," Prowl replied. "It's where I come from, and I want to take you there too. It can be your home, too."

"Cybertron is bike-bot's home?" Grimlock and Swoop exchanged glances, then looked back at Prowl. "But this here is Dinobots' home! Dinobots stay here!"

Prowl already knew better than to try using the fact that Snarl was going as a negotiating tactic. Jazz had pretty much informed him of everything that went on between Prime and the Dinobots on the way over to Dinobot Island.

"Grimlock, this place is no longer safe for Dinobots," Prowl said, trying another tactic instead. "You see what happened over there?" He gestured toward the giant crater where Waspinator had exploded several months ago.

"Yes… part of Dinobot Island, destroyed!" Grimlock stomped his foot angrily, clearly not pleased with this. Swoop made a hearty caw in agreement.

"If you come with me, we can give you a safer place to be," Prowl said. What he didn't add out loud was who would really be safer in some ways. In many ways, as much as Prowl cared about the Dinobots, he didn't trust them to be left on Earth unguarded. There was no telling what they might get up to, or how they might harm humans, if no Autobots were there to intervene.

"Hmmm," Grimlock mused, and seemed to be thinking it over. "Well, this place pretty boring anyway," he finally said. "Is bike-bot's home more fun?"

"Well, I can guarantee you probably won't get bored," Prowl said. Upon saying this, he realized that there were definitely things about Earth he was going to miss. On Cybertron, one could not find any organic life whatsoever, not even a single flower or a single insect.

"Me Grimlock will go with you," Grimlock finally said. Swoop let out a small whoop of agreement.

Prowl smiled. "Then come with me," he said, already turning to go.

"Nicely done, bro," Jazz smiled.

0o0o0o0o0

Optimus Prime entered the council chamber, closely followed by Sentinel who appeared to be stewing somewhat.

"Ah, Optimus Prime," Alpha Trion greeted. It seemed that the full council was present.

"Greetings," Optimus said, placing the end of the hammer on the floor so he could hold it with one hand, and then using his freed hand to salute. "Optimus Prime here, appearing as ordered."

"Very good," Ultra Magnus said. He was the only person present who wasn't in his seat, but he was on the floor near where Optimus had entered.

Sentinel, to his credit, said nothing. But was glaring at Optimus's back, while standing off to one side of the room.

"Give me the hammer," Ultra Magnus said, holding out a hand.

Without hesitation, Optimus stepped forward and handed the weapon back to its rightful owner. The hammer glowed softly as it was placed back in that familiar hand, by way of acknowledgement.

"Optimus Prime," Ultra Magnus said, holding the hammer lengthwise across both of his hands, "there is a very important reason why I summoned you here, and I need the entire council to witness this." He turned and glanced upward toward Perceptor. "Are the recording cameras on?"

"Yes," Perceptor replied.

"Good," Ultra Magnus said, and turned his attention back to Optimus. "Optimus Prime, I told on numerous occasions that you weren't programmed to be a hero, and I will also say here and now that I was disappointed when you lead Sentinel and Elita One to a forbidden, organic planet all those stellar cycles ago." He narrowed his optics. "I was disappointed that a bot who seemed so promising could do something so fool-hardy, something that cost the life of one of his own teammates."

In the background Sentinel smirked, pleased to see that this was being rubbed into Optimus's faceplate once again.

"I know I've made mistakes," Optimus said when Ultra Magnus paused. "But I've done my best to make up for them—"

Ultra Magnus held up a hand, silencing him. "I know you have," he said in a gentler tone. "Frankly, Optimus, I believe that you and your crew did all you could back there on Earth. You stopped the clones of Omega Supreme that the Decepticons would have used on Cybertron itself next."

"Omega Supreme is still at large though, and in Decepticon hands," Sentinel murmured, just loudly enough to be heard but not loudly enough to be considered obnoxious.

"I am aware of that," Ultra Magnus said. "However, I am also aware of the fact that Optimus has shown he has a lot of good qualities as a leader. He has respect for the bots around him, especially those he works with. And he also knows how to keep his head in a serious situation and do the best he can. And yes, it is unfortunate that Megatron got away with Omega Supreme, but considering Optimus and his crew had managed to rid the Earth of three clones that were every bit as powerful as Omega Supreme."

Ultra Magnus's elderly face lit up in a rare moment of amusement. "One cannot be expected to do everything in one day, after all."

The smile vanished and the Autobot leader turned serious again. "I am going to retire," he stated.

A collective exclamation of surprise could be heard going through the council chamber, and even Sentinel did a double-take. Perceptor, as usual, simply stared stoically at Ultra Magnus completely unfazed.

"And I wish to name my successor," Ultra Magnus said without hesitation. "Optimus Prime, please kneel."

If anyone had been looking at Sentinel's expression right at that moment, they might have thought his optics were about to pop out of his face-plate, and that his jaw was going to fall off his face.

"W-what?" Optimus said, his mouth gaping. "Are you saying… me?"

Ultra Magnus nodded. "I am getting too old for this, if Shockwave's successful attack on my life was any indication. And I am impressed by your leadership skills, Optimus Prime. Now," Ultra Magnus held out the handle-end of the hammer, "kneel."

Optimus couldn't believe this. Everyone was staring at him now, and he remembered that this was also going out live over Cybertron as well. He found that he couldn't speak—he just couldn't think of anything to say. So, reacting more out of reflex than anything else, he simply kneeled and bowed his head.

Ultra Magnus placed the end of his hammer on Optimus's shoulder, and began the process to promote him from the rank of Prime to that his of his successor, the new Magnus.

No one even noticed Sentinel, who was standing in the corner out of sight of everyone, including the cameras.

He was positively fuming, his servos clenched at his sides and his teeth gritted.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Bumblebee had finally finished inventory, just as Ratchet and Arcee finished their tour of the base as well as their talk for the most part. They probably still had a lot more to talk about, but they seemed to have talked themselves out for the moment.

"So you're finally finished, eh kid?" Ratchet said when he saw Bumblebee emerge from the back room. "Give me the list, Prime asked me to look it over once you were finished."

"Sure thing, Doc-bot," Bee said as he handed it over, glad to be done looking at it.

"Hang on," Ratchet said after a moment, catching Bumblebee before he left the room. "Since when do game consoles, DVDs, a DVD player, and an Ipod get put down on the 'priority' list?"

"Hey I can't go back to Cybertron without those things!" Bumblebee exclaimed.

Ratchet shook his head slightly. "You once lived without them every day out in the asteroid field; you can live without them again if you have to."

"What? Are you saying I have to leave all that stuff behind? No way!" Bumblebee glared.

Arcee chuckled as the two of them continued to discuss this back and fourth, with Bee acting like Ratchet was trying to take his own arms away from him, and Ratchet making it sound like Bee had become spoiled by Earth in many ways.

She had not been on Earth long, but from what she could see it definitely was a nice place, and there were plenty of things to do. It seemed to be a pleasant blend of organic life and technology, even if it did seem a bit… odd at first that these small organics were the dominant life-form on this world.

Earth was a unique place definitely, and it seemed to have a lot to offer. It seemed as though anyone could find something that could suit his or her own tastes.

The debate between Ratchet and Bumblebee finally dissolved, where the med-bot basically told Bee that he could take all of the electronic "junk" to Cybertron if he found a way to carry it all on his own. Bumblebee simply said that he could just have Sari help him load it all up into his vehicle-mode, and then he dashed off to pack.

Arcee and Ratchet found themselves alone again in the same room.

"Are you going to miss this place, when we go back to Cybertron?" Arcee asked, curious.

Ratchet turned to look at her. "Well, when I first came here… I never thought I was say this. But I have grown surprisingly attached to this planet and its people. I think… in my own way I am going to miss it." He chuckled. "It is easy to get used to a place like this. But I will also be glad to go back home to Cybertron."

"Me too," Arcee said thoughtfully. She glanced downward. "I know that I have been there for most of the stellar-cycles since… I lost my memory. But after everything you've told me… it feels like I've been gone all that time."

"In a way, I guess you were," Ratchet said. "But at least now, we can all go home, so to speak." He smiled.


	4. Chapter 4

Ratchet found himself more or less put in charge of the preparations to leave Earth—a responsibility he didn't normally like, but in this case he understood. Optimus had been made the new Magnus, and suddenly found himself far too busy to return to Earth, despite the fact that he'd fully intended to after he appeared before the council on Cybertron.

So right now, Ratchet was supervising everything as they all prepared to leave the base. Prowl was in charge of looking after the Dinobots—especially Grimlock—to make sure they stayed out of the way and didn't get into trouble. Jazz and Arcee were helping to load up Bulkhead with as much of their equipment and supplies as he could manage, then they began to load themselves up.

Ratchet could only shake his head slightly at Bumblebee. The little yellow compact had somehow managed to talk Wreck-Gar—who Sari had found a few hours ago, roaming about on the edge of the city—into carrying some of his junk.

"I have no idea what your stuff is going to smell like when you unload Wreck-Gar on Cybertron," Ratchet commented out loud at some point. "Then again, I don't want to know."

"Frankly, Bumblebee, I would have to agree," Sari groaned as she tried to keep her balance while holding a box. It was large for her, though somewhat small by Autobot standards. "Do you really need all of this stuff?" she asked.

"Oh don't you start with that!" Bumblebee said. "I already had this discussion with Ratchet, and my mind is made up." He then reached out toward Sari. "Let me help with that." He took the box from her, then stuffed it into Wreck-Gar's already over-flowing trailer.

"Eww," Sari complained, one of her eyes twitching. "Bumblebee that truck trailer is so full of garbage it's a wonder you can fit anything else in there."

"Hey, Ratchet said I could only bring my things if I figured out how to do it on my own. I have," Bumblebee retorted.

"Well, whatever," Sari shrugged. "It's your stuff."

"Come on, bots! Get a move on!" Ratchet called out impatiently. "I've already disintegrated anything sensitive, and the rest has been packed up or discarded. The sooner we get a move on, the sooner we can get to Cybertron!"

"Wait, I can't find my media player!" Bumblebee exclaimed, and dashed out of the room to go look for it.

Ratchet shook his head. "If we get out of here by the end of the day, it's going to be a miracle," he muttered.

Then the medic noticed something out of the corner of his optic. Prowl was still standing with Grimlock and Swoop, who seemed content to stay in the corner and watch everything. But what Ratchet noticed was the object in Prowl's hands.

"Hey Prowl, you're not planning to take one of your potted bushes to Cybertron, are you?" Ratchet asked.

Prowl glanced in his direction. "Actually I am," he said. "I believe the atmosphere is compatible so that it should be able to survive. Captain Fanzone was able to survive there, after all."

"Well, bring whatever you wish, but the same rule applies for you as it does for Bumblebee," Ratchet said warily. "You want to bring anything extra, you're solely responsible for it. The rest of us are more concerned with taking the stuff that needs to be taken."

Prowl nodded. "I plan to put it in my sidecar when we go."

"Fine," Ratchet shrugged. "Just so long as those bozos over there don't get out of hand while you're in your vehicle mode."

"Me Grimlock not bozo! Me Grimlock King!" the robotic T-rex exclaimed, and let out a small roar for emphasis.

"Yeah, yeah," Ratchet said, and walked off. He still had to load up his medical gear into his vehicle mode.

0o0o0o0o0o

Megatron sat within the control chamber of Omega Supreme, sitting with his fingers steepled before him. He'd taken the ship to another remote sector, one far from the sector where the Earth was located, and was content to sit and wait.

He was currently observing some of the transmissions coming from Cybertron, wearing a thoughtful expression as he did so. Apparently there was a new Magnus now, for the old one had chosen to retire.

"Fascinating," was all that Megatron said out loud when he found out just who the successor was. Then again, Optimus Prime had indeed proven himself in battle, many times over. And Megatron himself had to admit that the Autobot seemed to be more of an actual threat than a pesky nuisance.

"I do believe it is time for me to come up with a new strategy," he commented out loud to himself. He then summoned Shockwave to come see him, via commlink.

A few moments later, Shockwave entered the room. "I am here, my Liege," the former double-agent announced.

"Good," Megatron said, casting him a brief glance before turning his attention back to the monitors. "Since you were head of Autobot intelligence on Cybertron, I think you have some information that would be very useful to me," he said.

"Of course, my Lord," Shockwave said with a tip of his head. "What sort of information do you require?"

"I want to know more about the Autobots on the council, and those who are in positions of authority," Megatron said. "I want to know if any of them could possibly be used to our advantage."

0o0o0o00o0

Sentinel walked quietly down the street, having to refrain from covering his audios. He couldn't stand the sound of cheering that was still happening on the streets. It seemed that Optimus Prime's promotion to Magnus was being broadcast everywhere, repeatedly.

Finally, Sentinel slipped down a quiet alleyway and sat down on an old, discarded box, choosing to turn off his audio receptors for a few cycles.

What a bunch of fools! He thought, shaking his head and gritting his teeth. They had put that Academy wash-out in charge of all of Cybertron, just like that.

I've definitely lost any respect I had left for that old bot, Sentinel thought, still furious with Ultra-Magnus. He felt that everything that had just happened was all a big mistake, and that he himself should have been put in charge, not Optimus.

Some bot has to do something, he thought. What exactly, he had no idea. But it seemed that the Council, even people themselves, were no longer listening to him. Well, some of the civilians listened to him, especially since he was the one who brought some of the Decepticons to Cybertron when Optimus had not brought any back with him. But in some ways, the council seemed to have turned a cold shoulder toward Sentinel.

It just wasn't fair though, and the council was being stupid. Optimus had done many things that could be looked upon negatively, yet Ultra Magnus, Perceptor, Alpha Trion, and anyone else with the highest rank had chosen to overlook that. Optimus had simply jumped through a Transwarp Gate, wielding the very hammer that didn't even belong to him, then Ultra Magnus takes it just to give it back to him again.

"I'm going to do something," Sentinel said to himself, and turned his audios back on so that he could hear himself—or hear if anyone was coming.

He abruptly got out and walked out of the alleyway, forcing himself to ignore the continued broadcasts and cheers. He had things to do, and he couldn't let himself get distracted by that foolishness.

0o0o0o0o0

Starscream was more or less stuck, a fact that he was not at all happy with. Somehow or other, the cargo area that he was in proved to be a room he could not get out of. The door seemed to be jammed stuck, and he found that he couldn't get it open even if his life depended on it.

He growled under his breath. He'd managed to succeed in getting aboard without being seen just to get himself stuck in a useless room.

"Well," he murmured to himself, as he began to look at the boxes onboard. "Maybe there might be something in here I could find useful…" With that, he began to go through the boxes. Most of them turned out to be empty, but then he came across one that had something interesting in it…

Very interesting indeed.

0o0o0o0o0o

Ratchet was starting to get very impatient with Bumblebee, because he kept remembering something that he "couldn't possibly go back to Cybertron without" and had to go look for it, and in the process he kept running across things that he felt he just had to take as well.

"You know, kid, if you bothered to clean your room once in a while, you wouldn't be having these problems right now," Ratchet growled at one point.

Finally, reaching the end of his patience, he simply ordered everyone to go on ahead to the Transwarp Gate on top of Sumdac Towers. Prowl went on ahead since he had to keep an eye on the Dinobots, and Scrapper trailed along behind with Snarl just ahead of him.

Next Bulkhead, Arcee and Jazz took off. Arcee had taken on the form of a pink and white Porsche in order to blend in on the Earth roads better. Ratchet lingered behind, and sternly informed Bumblebee that he had exactly ten cycles to finish packing and to head out with Wreck-Gar, and if he still couldn't find something, then he would have to leave it behind.

While they were waiting for Bumblebee's ten minutes to deplete, Ratchet took Sari aside for a moment to talk to her.

"Have you made up your mind what you want to do, kid?" the Doc-bot asked her.

"I… don't know," Sari said with a frown. "I'm not sure if I really belong here on Earth, because I was never a human to begin with. Not a full human anyway." She looked up at Ratchet sadly. "All I really ever had here were you guys, and my dad. If I stay here and if you all go back to Cybertron, I won't have anyone like me here anymore."

"Then are you saying you want to come with us?" Ratchet asked.

"I…" Sari stammered, then swallowed. "Part of me wants to," she finally said. "But part of me is… scared to. I mean, I went to the moon and that was totally awesome, because back when I was just a normal human—or thought I was—I never dreamed I'd actually go there. But now…" She drew in a deep breath. "I'm actually thinking about going to a planet that I've never seen before. And it's actually my home, but at the same time… it's not."

"I understand," Ratchet said sympathetically. He then took a moment to check the time, then he turned back to her. "Bumblebee's ten cycles are almost up," he said. He then transformed into his ambulance mode, and opened the door for her. "Get in, Sari," he said. "There's not going to be anything left here once we're gone. So I'll take you to Sumdac Tower, and you can use the time during the ride to think about whether you want to go or stay."

Sari climbed into Ratchet and strapped herself in. She sat there silently as the remaining two or so cycles passed by, considering her options. Her thoughts were interrupted when Ratchet suddenly honked his horn and bellowed for Bumblebee to hurry up, because it was time to go.

Almost predictably, Bumblebee yelled back, saying that he still couldn't find a specific CD with his favorite music.

"Bumblebee," Ratchet growled dangerously, "if you don't come along with us right now, we're going to leave you behind."

"Hang on, Doc-bot, just another minute, I promise—"

"Wreck-Gar, let's go," Ratchet said, still speaking loudly enough for Bee to hear him. "We're going to leave that yellow bot behind."

Wreck-Gar seemed more or less happy to finally get moving, and both he and Ratchet took off together side by side.

Ratchet then received an indignant protest from Bee over his commlink, and the Med-bot could only chuckle as the youthful bot finally said, "FINE! I'M COMING! JUST DON'T LEAVE WITHOUT ME, SLAGGIT!"

"Works like a charm," Ratchet commented silently to Sari, who giggled in reply.

0o0o0o0o0

"Very interesting," Megatron murmured as he mentally went over everything he'd been told by Shockwave. "You have done well, Shockwave. And if the things you tell me about one Autobot in particular are true… I may well be able to turn things to my advantage, one way or another."

The Decepticon leader smiled. "So long as I am very careful in my planning."

0o0o0o0o

Upon arrival at Sumdac Tower, Ratchet along with Bumblebee, Sari and Wreck-Gar found that everyone else had already gone through the Transwarp Gate to Cybertron.

Ratchet sent Wreck-Gar and the grumbling Bumblebee on ahead, then allowed Sari to get out of his vehicle mode. He would have transformed to robot mode in order to talk to her more easily, but he couldn't—not with all the medical equipment he currently had loaded up in him.

"Have you decided yet, kiddo?" Ratchet asked her.

Sari made no reply. She simply turned to look at her father, who stood nearby, watching her intently.

"Dad," Sari began, then hesitated as though she wasn't sure what to say.

"Sari," Processor Sumdac said, looking at her with a solemn expression, "if you want to go, you may go."

She perked up slightly, but still seemed somewhat sad at the same time. "Really?"

Her father nodded. "I knew that one day I would have to accept the fact that you would be off on your own, I just didn't know it would be so soon. And," he added with a glance toward Ratchet, "since you don't even legally exist here… you should be with your own kind."

Sari gripped him in a tight embrace—though not too tight, for she had to remember she was now a lot stronger than her father. "I love you, Dad," she said into his ear. "You're the best father I could ever have asked for."

"Oh Sari, that is very sweet," Sumdac said, squeezing her back. Then he pulled away and held her thin shoulders at arm's length, getting a good look at her. "Just please come visit me when you can," he said.

Sari smiled. "Maybe someday you can come visit me," she said, wiping away a tear with her finger.

"Oh I would like that very much, Sari," Isaac Sumdac told his daughter.

"Me too."

Ratchet cleared his vocalizer. "I hate to break this up," he said slowly, "but we really need to get going… if you're sure you want to come, Sari."

"Goodbye Dad," Sari said, giving her father's hand a gentle squeeze before pulling away. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Sari," Isaac said. "And I couldn't possibly be more proud of you."

Sari beamed, then the expression was covered up when her helmet flew up around her head and face. Ratchet had already told her on the way that it might be best for her to look as robot-like as possible, because the view on organics still wasn't all that great on Cybertron.

Then she kicked up off the ground, firing up her jetpack and hovering over the floor for a moment, never taking her eyes off her father.

Ratchet moved on ahead, then vanished through the brilliant blue orb, eager to go home.

Sari moved away slowly, bidding her father one last, silent goodbye, then she too vanished through the blue orb.

The Transwarp Gate then powered itself down, and the blue light winked out of existence.

"Goodbye," Sumdac said to the empty space in the bridge. "And good luck, Sari."


	5. Chapter 5

**Four Months Later**

Optimus had been Magnus for only four months, but he already had had quite a bit to deal with.

It seemed that some of Cybertron's population was not all that happy with Optimus's promotion, especially Sentinel Prime's loyal supporters. But Optimus still had plenty of supporters, especially since the promotion had been official and Optimus now had every right to hold the Magnus hammer.

Eventually it had been determined that it would be best to send Sentinel himself off-planet for a while, because the bot had been suspected of doing some behind-the-scenes things to gain support for himself and to make Optimus look like nothing more than a failure for letting Megatron get away with Omega Supreme.

So basically, after a lot of deliberation amongst the council members, it was decided that if Sentinel wanted to make so much noise about how Megatron got away, then Sentinel himself could be sent on a mission to search for and locate the Decepticon leader himself.

And of course, Sentinel took advantage of this decision by boasting as publicly as possible that he would bring Megatron and any other rogue Decepticons he could get his servos on back to Cybertron in stasis cuffs.

Optimus himself had spoken to Jazz very briefly before Sentinel left, asking the white ninja to go with the glory-cog. "I think it would be best if someone who has a level processor on their shoulders to go along," Optimus told him. "Try to keep him out of trouble, especially since… I'm not going to have time anymore if he gets himself in over his head."

"Got it, Magnus," Jazz had replied. The ninja knew all-too-well that Sentinel sometimes did call upon Optimus when something happened.

So with a bit of string-pulling, and ignoring a few protests from Sentinel—who was still a bit sore at Jazz for "betraying" him—Optimus Magnus got Jazz enlisted as part of the crew going out.

Part of Optimus hoped that Sentinel and his crew would find Megatron and Omega Supreme, though at the same time part of him didn't. If they encountered that powerful ship, there was no telling what would happen.

But Optimus had also had a few other problems he needed to help tend to over the past few weeks or so. The Dinobots were not fitting in very well with the Cybertronians, and were being viewed as "glitches with attitudes", so Optimus had been forced to make some arrangements to give them a new home in an un-occupied area of Cybertron, for the time being at least. He would have to figure out what to do to help them better later.

Scrapper had gone with them, at least for the time-being, because he wanted to get away from everything. He hadn't received very much acceptance himself, mostly due to the Decepticon emblem that had been on his chest plate. He'd since had it replaced with an Autobot symbol, with some help from Ratchet, but nevertheless he didn't exactly feel… welcome, by anyone. So he and Snarl went with Grimlock and Swoop, even if the latter two weren't speaking to the former two.

Wreck-Gar, on the other hand, had actually managed to find a job within Cybertron's main city, surprisingly so. He was in charge of taking on shipments of energon waste and dumping it into an energon pit, and seemed quite happy to keep doing that all day long. All it had taken was for someone to tell him that he was a "hero" for doing it, because ridding the city of used energon waste helped save lives and make everyone's lives easier.

Sari was a completely different case, though. The general attitude toward organics was not very good right now. However she was currently staying at Bulkhead's place. The giant green mech had been given his own place to stay and had been given a job as Cybertron's head space bridge reference person and maintainer, since he was the best at it. And he allowed Bumblebee and Sari to stay at his home—he didn't have much time to be there right now anyway.

Bumblebee had spent about two weeks after returning to Cybertron trying to get the smell of garbage out of his stuff, but then he seemed to spend quite a bit of the time playing video games and listening to music.

Sari, who didn't have much else to do for the time being, tried her best to help keep Bulkhead's home maintained and clean, although she did spend a little time playing games with Bumblebee. She also ended up yelling at him to put the games away at some moments, wanting him to help her fix something or clean something around the living complex.

She also spent some time talking to her Dad over the communications terminal, and she had to admit, at least to herself, that part of her missed being on Earth. She missed being with her father, and she missed the good old days when there was actually more for her to do.

Nowadays, everything seemed so much more… complicated. She wasn't fully human, she'd actually grown up a lot faster than she thought she would have a couple years ago. If she were human, she would only be about nine—almost ten—now. Instead she was the equivalent of a human teenager, and she had powers and abilities that no human would ever have normally.

She could never fit in on Earth, not in the normal way at least. You needed to have a record of your existence to be able to get an ID and get work. So the only place she had was Cybertron, unless she planned to forge some documents on Earth—which she couldn't do because it was illegal.

But she wasn't overly welcomed on Cybertron, there were only a few bots out there who would even be around her without making rude comments or acting like she was disgusting, and everyone she knew was now too busy to spend any time for her—except for Bumblebee, who seemed content to just sit around and play video games.

Finally though, she decided to voice her thoughts on the problem to her father. She sat there before the communication terminal, not quite looking at her dad's face as she poured out her heart to him.

He listened intently, waiting for her to finish, and then he spoke. "I knew that this wouldn't be easy for you," he said. "But I hadn't thought it would be quite this difficult for you. If you want to though, you could always come back and work for me at Sumdac Systems—you know that you would not have to fill out an application for me, and I could pay you in cash."

Sari smiled. "Thanks, Dad, but it's not about money, you know. It's about finding out what I'm supposed to do, and where I'm supposed to be." She sighed and hung her head. "I still don't really know where I came form. I mean, I know I was a protoform, and Prowl and Ratchet think that I might have been one of the protoforms that Megatron stole a long time ago. But that still doesn't explain everything."

"I know, Sari," Sumdac said. "But maybe in time, you will find the answers." He thought for a moment, then spoke again. "About all I can suggest is that perhaps you should try talking to Optimus. Maybe he can help you find your place."

"Yeah maybe, but he's also very busy."

"Then try and arrange an appointment. That's what I have to do sometimes here on Earth, and people have to do it with me as well."

"Hmm maybe I will," Sari said. "Thank, Dad," she smiled.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Warpath glanced up from his work as Prowl entered his office. "Hello," Warpath murmured, "I will be with you in a moment."

Ever since the death of Yoketron, the ninjas had more or less scattered. Oil Slick had joined the Decepticons, though thankfully those such as Warpath and Jazz had chosen to aide the Elite Guard in one form or another.

Warpath had served in the war although he also did some odd jobs on the side. He was currently trying to repair a broken computer console, something which wasn't going very well if his out-loud grumbling was any indication.

Prowl leaned almost casually against the corner of the room near the doorway, simply waiting for Warpath to finish what he was doing. When the two of them had first met, Warpath had literally wrestled with him until he'd managed to slap a pair of stasis cuffs on Prowl's wrists and then carried him over his shoulder to Yoketron.

Prowl had been a very different bot back then. Having lost his creators in an accident involving an explosion of unstable energon, he'd roamed the streets of Cybertron for a long time during his youth, looking out for no one but himself. That didn't change until he'd been brought to Master Yoketron.

Warpath hadn't liked him at all back then, but over the years the two of them had grown some respect for each other. Now that Prowl had pretty much surpassed all of the other ninjas around, Warpath was actually quietly in awe of Prowl, even if he would never show it or admit it.

Warpath was not the type of bot to show awe for anyone.

Finally, the large bot seemed to more or less finish up what he was doing, and he turned to look at Prowl. "Alright," Warpath sighed, "now let's get down to the main reason why I asked you here."

"And that is?" Prowl asked when the other bot fell silent.

Warpath simply turned away and gestured toward the door. "Follow me," he said, and the two of them started walking.

0o0o0o0o0

Sentinel Prime scowled as he sat before the communication terminal on his desk, in the privacy of his quarters. He'd been given the same ship and the same crew as he'd had before, although he wasn't too happy with having Jazz back on his team.

However he had every intention of making the best of the situation. But he would not trust Jazz again—nor would he trust Jetfire or Jetstorm all that well. The only bot he was going to trust entirely was himself, and he would return home to Cybertron as the hero that Optimus certainly was not.

He would show everyone. He had every intention of doing so.

And maybe, just maybe, he had a lead in doing so. For he had been contacted by someone who had contacted him before with an offer. Of course this person could not be trusted entirely either, but maybe, just maybe, if Sentinel played his cards right, he could handle this situation without getting in over his head.

So now he was taking the call in the privacy of his quarters, on a scrambled frequency.

"Lockdown," Sentinel greeted with a serious expression. "Long time no see."

"Yes, it has been too long," Lockdown muttered. "As you may have guessed, I'm calling to talk business."

"Same as last time, as I figured," Sentinel said. "But why should I trust you? Last time you back-stabbed me as soon as someone else gave you a better offer."

"Because this time I don't want anything from you."

"Oh yeah?" Sentinel laughed. "I find that hard to believe.

"I'm just being paid as a message buoy this time around. Someone wants to talk to you."

Sentinel narrowed his optics. "Who?" he asked.

0o0o0o0o0

Prowl's visor literally blinked on and off as he followed Warpath toward a specific room. It looked like they were heading toward someone's room, but the sounds inside were rather unnerving. There were sounds of things being bent or broken, and a young female voice was screaming her vocalizer off inside. That is, she wasn't screaming all the time, there were moments of silence, but when she was being vocal she was either screaming or yelling all kinds of phrases, some of which were so offensive they could have earned her a good smack across the faceplate if she'd uttered them in public.

"What is that?" Prowl asked as they came to a stop in front of the door. "Who is in there?"

Warpath groaned softly, placing his hand on his faceplate. "That's Dreamscreamer," he muttered, and it seemed that simply thinking of her and being anywhere near her was enough to give him a processor ache.

As if in response to their presence, another screaming fit could be heard within the room, accompanied by what sounded like a berth being stomped on and bent.

"It sounds like she's insane," Prowl commented.

"Nah, not insane, just out of control," Warpath said.

"Is she malfunctioning?" Prowl asked with concern.

"No, she chooses to be out of control. She's been checked over by the best, and she's perfectly healthy and functional. But her attitude is something else."

Prowl's frown deepened. "Perhaps you should explain to me what this is about, and why you asked me here."

"It was Jazz's idea for me to bring you here, actually," Warpath said. "I disagree, I think she should rust in the stockade, but considering you turned out alright under Yoketron… I suppose there is some hope for this deranged femme as well."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm saying that I'm putting her fate in your servos. If you don't want to deal with her, she's off to the stockade for good, because she's too much trouble to allow free. Or if you want, you can try to see if you can… get her a bit more civilized, possibly train her to be a Cyber Ninja." Warpath snorted. "I know I wouldn't have the time, much less the patience to handle her. But maybe you could, but it's up to you."

"I don't understand, why did Jazz think she could be trained?" Prowl asked, completely puzzled.

"Because somehow or other—and no one knows how—she knows processor over matter," Warpath said.

Then, as if in response to that comment, the door opened all on its own.

"Hey! She bypassed the locking mechanism—that should be impossible!" Warpath snapped.

"Unless… she used processor over matter," Prowl quickly deduced with a gasp.

Now that the door was fully open, the small femme rushed out in a flash. If she was standing up straight, her head would have come up just past Prowl's midsection, but as it was she was now standing in a crouched position.

For a moment, everyone just stood completely still, with Prowl and Warpath staring at her, and her staring back. Her colors were a mixture of silver, blue and green, and her optics shone with Autobot blue but almost seemed to hold a Decepticon-like fierceness, emotionally at least.

Then she turned on her heels and, transforming into something that looked like a lean Cybertronian motorcycle, the young femme sped off down the corridor, tires screeching.

Prowl and Warpath both transformed into their alt modes and took off after her. Then the mad chase began.

0o0o0o0o0

Sentinel had no idea who could possibly want to contact him, but since they were speaking on a scrambled frequency, he figured that he had nothing to lose.

"Very well…" Sentinel said, almost cautiously. "Who is it?"

"I will put you through now," Lockdown replied, and then the screen went momentarily blank.

Sentinel folded his arms and scowled at the screen. He never liked waiting, and he began to drum his fingers across his arms as a couple of cycles ticked by.

Finally, the screen winked back to life. Sentinel gasped, his jaw dropping and his optics widening when he saw who it was.

Megatron.

"Greetings, Sentinel Prime," Megatron's deep, slow voice emitted from the speakers. "I wish to speak to you about… a deal."

0o0o0o0o0

Dreamscreamer was still somewhere within the building, that much was certain, but Prowl and Warpath had to split up when they came to the end of a hallway that split off into two directions.

Prowl, who went left, sped down the corridor as quickly as he could, maneuvering the twists and turns with ease.

Finally he saw her up ahead, and came to a skidding halt when he did so. He immediately transformed and moved into a defensive position, ready for anything and blocking her path at the same time.

She was in her robot mode now, and she tensed, taking a few steps back.

"I won't hurt you," Prowl said slowly, holding up his hands, "just take it easy and stand down."


	6. Chapter 6

Sari had tried to contact Optimus Magnus, but she ended up having to leave him a message because he wasn't even in his office. So she simply asked him to call her back as soon as he had a chance and then shut off the terminal.

Bumblebee, however, was being particularly annoying right now because his Xbox had broken and there was no way he could fix it without parts. And since he couldn't go through the space bridges without special permission, due to the lingering threat of Decepticons, he couldn't get more parts from Earth.

"Bumblebee, instead of sitting there whining about it," Sari said at one point, "maybe we should go for a walk or something." She grinned. "Or better yet, maybe we could go for a ride!"

Bumblebee sighed softly, looking at the disk case for Ninja Gladiators longingly. But then an idea sprang to him. "Hey," he said, looking at Sari, "I know just the place we could go, and it's not too far from here!"

"What is it?" Sari asked.

"It's a game arcade," Bumblebee exclaimed. He transformed into his car mode—which was still the same one as the one he'd had on Earth. "Climb in!"

Sari sighed. In all honestly she didn't feel like playing games right now, but she also figured it would make him happy, and it sure beat just sitting around Bulkhead's place. Besides, hanging out around the communication terminal wasn't going to make Optimus call any faster.

"Okay," Sari said, and climbed in. "Let's go."

0o0o0o0o0

"I will not hurt you, if you just stand down," Prowl told the femme, repeating the same words he'd told her earlier.

Dreamscreamer's optics narrowed until they were blue slits. "You won't hurt me because I won't let you!" she spat, then lunged toward Prowl.

Prowl instinctively leaped backward, not allowing her attack to be anywhere near successful. Then just as he landed, he swung his foot forward and slammed it into her midsection, sending her half-flying, half-stumbling backward. Then for added measure he sent his fist into her torso, sending her crashing against the wall.

However, he hadn't used anywhere near the full force he could have used. She was good and she was slick, but she couldn't match his strength or reflexes—not to mention his skill. If he'd really wanted to, he could probably have finished her off right there and then, especially since he'd taken her off-guard and she was rather stunned at the moment.

Instead he simply took a step back and looked down at her. "I would suggest you do not try that again," he told her in a soft yet firm voice.

She glared up at him. She made no move except to scoot away from him as far as she could, pressing her back against the corner of the hallway. Then her mouth opened and she proceeded to curse the name of Primus for the day he brought "your stupid slagging Allspark-forsaken-spark online!" as she put it.

Prowl simply remained silent as obscenities continued to pour out of her vocalizer. Where she had learned such a colorful vocabulary, he had no way of guessing.

When she finally paused—either due to over-exerting her vocalizer, or because she'd run out of things to say, he had no idea—the first words he spoke were not to her, but to Warpath, for it was at that moment that his commlink chimed.

"Prowl, you found her yet? I don't see her anywhere."

"Yes I found her," Prowl said in reply. "I have the situation under control."

"Dreamscreamer, under control? Sounds like a contradiction in terms."

"Just let me handle this," Prowl said.

"Alright, I'll leave you be. Just don't let her get away again. Warpath out."

Prowl moved his finger away from his helmet. His ever-watchful gaze had never left Dreamscreamer's smaller, sleeker form, though now he was able to actually address her.

"Dreamscreamer, why are you acting like this?" he asked her.

She scowled, and his question was first answered by nothing more than another long-winded series of curses as she defiled his name, his creators, Primus and the Allspark itself for ever creating him or his ancestors. Then finally, she simply said, "I don't like anybody." With that she fell silent, folding her arms and turning away from him.

Prowl knelt down on the floor, not getting too close. He wanted to be closer to her optic-level, but ready if she tried to run or attack him again. "Why don't you… like anybody?" he asked carefully.

That earned him another scowl as she looked at him fully again. "Why should I? No one likes me. Everybody hates me."

Prowl said nothing. In many ways he could see why no one would like her, considering the way she acted. But he knew better than to try pointing that out to her, at least not yet. Instead he simply said, "I don't hate you."

"Yeah right, maybe you will if I do THIS!"

She let out a high-pitched shriek and was off the floor in an instant, aiming at his face with a well-aimed kick. However he quickly twisted so that his head ducked down and his fist came up, connecting solidly with her foot and taking the brunt of her attack. Then in the very next instant, his other hand shot up and sent her flying back against the wall.

She gritted her dental plating and growled at him. "LET ME GO YOU SLAGGER!" she bellowed, and then she moved again, only this time in an attempt to move past him, not to fight.

He was quicker though; he grabbed her as she tried to run by and he lifted her off the ground, then held her out at arms' length in order to try and keep her from kicking him. She screamed at the top of her audio capacity, her limbs flailing about in an attempt to get free.

"I am sorry to do this," he murmured, although he doubted she could hear him over her own screams. After making sure he had a good grip on her with his left servo, he used his right servo to slip in to a specific point where her shoulder and neck met, then narrowed his eyes in concentration.

After a moment, her shrieks ceased and her optics dimmed. She went completely limb in his arms, and then he adjusted his hold on her so that he held her lengthwise in both arms rather than by the scruff of her neck-plating.

That was apparently one advanced tactic she hadn't learned to watch out for. It was a step up from the Cybertronian nerve-wire pinch, only a cyber ninja trained in processor over matter could temporarily disrupt the neural pathways, causing the bot on the receiving end to fall temporarily offline.

Prowl glanced down at her sleeping features for a moment, then proceeded to walk out down the hallway, back toward the front of the building.

0o0o0o0o0o0

"What the fraggin' pit is this?" Sentinel grumbled, still glaring at the screen. "Why in the name of the Allspark are you contacting me?"

"Because I have a proposal to make," came Megatron's reply.

"Yeah? And why would I be interested in anything you have to offer? You're nothing but a low-life Decepticon creep and—"

"Oh spare me the high-and-mighty speech," Megatron interrupted tersely, holding up a hand. "I know about you, Sentinel Prime, and I am going to make you an offer you cannot refuse."

Sentinel's optics narrowed. "Oh yeah? Like what?"

A sly smile crossed the Decepticon leader's face. "I can help you gain what you desire most, to have all of Cybertron under your servo digit. With my help, you can take out Optimus Magnus."

Sentinel's mouth pursed thoughtfully. "And what's in it for you?" he finally asked.

"An opportunity to kill Ultra Magnus, for defeating us in the Great War, that is all," Megatron replied. "That way, you get what you want, and the Decepticons get what we want."

Sentinel did not trust Megatron, but for that matter… he had been losing a lot of trust and respect for his fellow Autobots, too. Even Ultra Magnus seemed to be a big fool nowadays, naming that low-life excuse for a Prime as his successor.

Was there anyone Sentinel could truly trust these days, one way or another? It seemed like someone, somewhere, would always be getting in the way of his goals. It was almost as though the rest of the universe had turned stupid or something.

"Well…" Sentinel found himself saying, "frankly at this point, I'm not sure if any offer sounds too unreasonable." He narrowed his optics. "Just so long as I don't come out of this looking like the bad guy."

Megatron smirked. "You shouldn't have to worry about that, since surely you are not the bad guy."

"Of course not!" Sentinel said quickly. "Tell me more… and I'll consider what you've said."

0o0o0o0o0

"So you actually got her," Warpath commented as he saw Prowl coming toward him, with the limp Dreamscreamer in his arms. "Have you decided what you're going to do with her?"

Prowl came to a stop just beside Warpath's desk, once again looking down at the femme in a thoughtful way.

Before he could say anything, Warpath once again gave his opinion on the matter. "I say you should just put her on the next transport to the stockade. You've seen what she's like; no other bot will have anything to do with her at this point."

Prowl continued to look at her face. In sleeping she seemed so… peaceful, hardly the out-of-control femme he'd witnessed mere moments ago. He had to admit, to himself at least, that there seemed to be at least something in her that he could relate to, somehow. He'd once been a troublemaker himself… although praise be to Primus that he'd never been that bad.

"I think I will give her a chance," he finally said. He'd seen what had happened to Wasp, as well as others, as a result of being in the stockade. He did not want that to happen to this femme. Maybe, given time, he could even make her see reason, that anything was better than going to the stockade. All she needed was another chance, to show her that any life was better than life there.

"Fine," Warpath shrugged. "But if she gets away from you, it's off to the stockade." He then turned and walked off, muttering something under his breath that Prowl couldn't quite catch, although he did manage to hear "bam" and "kapow".

Prowl turned and headed out the front exit, deciding he would take the femme back to his residence. She was now his responsibility, under his care, and that would be the best place he could keep an optic sensor on her.

He simply hoped that she wouldn't try to run away. Besides, it wasn't like he had any locks that were POM-proof.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Starscream had found the very thing that he felt could give him ultimate power—or at least, an ultimate advantage. He'd found a weapon hidden within one of the crates, although he simply had to wait until the right moment to use it.

It looked like a device that humans on Earth—specifically, police officials—used to track how fast a ground vehicle was going. But this one had an Allspark fragment wedged in it, which gave it unique abilities. He had been able to use it to open the stuck door to get free of the cargo hold, and he'd been able to escape from his unfortunate cell.

Then he'd spent the next few weeks trying out his new weapon on various things, trying to get the hang of it. Not only that but after time, patience and practice, he'd managed to find ways to improve upon it, so that he could actually manipulate another bot's thoughts and mind.

This proved to be very handy, because he he'd managed to make both Lugnut and Shockwave forget they'd ever seen him, during a couple of instances where he'd been careless and had let himself get spotted by them. However he found that the effect had its limits, because he could only plant minor suggestions into his mind, such as the fact that they hadn't really seen Starscream onboard. He couldn't get the device to make either of them do something for him—that was something he needed to work on some more.

This time, Starscream decided, he was actually going to try to do things the smart way. He was going to wait until he had perfected his advantage before he tried anything. Then maybe, just maybe, he could finally take Megatron offline for good, and take control of Omega Supreme.

He had already made some progress in that area. He'd disabled Omega's ability to scan for unwelcome intruders, although Starscream didn't dare do too much yet, as he wanted more time to perfect his weapon.

0o0o0o0o0

Prowl had just barely reached the front entrance to his residential complex and was just beginning to type in his pass-code to open the door, when Dreamscreamer began to stir in his arms.

Her optics flickered back online, then she looked up into his face. He tightened his grip on her, just in case she tried anything. However that only seemed to make her all the more aggravated, for she began to squirm in his arms.

Prowl shifted his position so that he could lean against the front of the complex and set her down, trying to get a good grip on her arms to restrain her. However she took advantage of this, kicking him solidly in the midsection and biting him so hard in the servo that she dented one of his fingers. He yelped and instinctively drew back slightly, which permitted her to escape.

As she ran off several meters, then quickly transformed and sped off down the street, Prowl growled and transformed himself, his tires screeching loudly as he shot off after her.

And once again, the chase was on.

0o0o0o0o0

Bumblebee and Sari had almost arrived at their intended destination when a blue and silver streak nearly ran into Bumblebee as it whizzed by. Bumblebee swerved just in the nick of time and then came to a halt on the side of the run-way, turned around.

"Hey! What does that bot think he's doing?" Bumblebee said indignantly.

"Actually I think it was a she," Sari exclaimed.

"How do you know that?"

"Um, I'm not sure," Sari shrugged. "I just do."

"Whatever," Bumblebee said.

Just then, a very familiar black-and-gold motorcycle with a sidecar came rushing past, apparently in pursuit of the Cybertronian motorbike that had just passed.

"Prowl?" Bumblebee exclaimed. Then he contacted Prowl on his commlink frequency. "Prowl was that you? What in space is going on?"

"I need to catch Dreamscreamer," came the curt reply.

"Catch Dreamscreamer? You mean that bike that nearly ran into me?" Bumblebee revved his engine to life and sped off in the direction Prowl had gone. "This is just like old times!" he exclaimed. "Prowl wait up, I'll help you."

"You're going after that speeding bot too?" Sari asked.

"Sure, I haven't had this much excitement since we left Earth!"

Sari said nothing. Actually though, part of her had to agree.

0o0o0o0o0o

It didn't take long for Dreamscreamer to figure out she now had two shadows that she needed to lose. She felt annoyed and frustrated at this, but kept on going.

She had to admit though that the yellow one was good. He was a bit more reckless and a bit faster than the motorcycle. Then again, perhaps he was only gaining on her simply because he was more reckless.

She lead both of her shadows through a confusing and dangerous maze of twists and turns, by going into an area that was unsafe to maneuver in vehicle mode. She was able to though, because she was small and lean.

However the yellow bot somehow managed to keep up with her for the most part, although she had lost the black-and-gold one, at least for the moment.

She then headed into a crowded area, transformed into robot mode, and tried to lose herself in the crowd. That gave the yellow bot no choice but to transform as well, because it was too dangerous to maneuver such a crowded area without hurting someone.

Finally she came up behind a large, stocky mech who peered down at her curiously. "What's the matter?" he asked her in a deep voice.

That was when Dreamscreamer got an idea. She cowered slightly, putting on her best "helpless femme" look, and pointed behind her. "There's a yellow mech chasing me!" she said, trying to sound as pathetic as possible.

The big burly bot glanced in the direction she was pointing, and sure enough, there was the yellow bot. She ducked behind the larger bot, trying to stay out of the yellow bot's sight.

Her temporary guardian then stepped forward, toward the yellow bot. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked, placing his servos on his hips.

"Hey do you mind?" the yellow bot spat indignantly. "I'm trying to catch a little femme bot!"

The large burly bot picked up Bumblebee and lifted him well over his head. "What kind of a mech are you?" the big brute thundered, then threw Bumblebee back in the direction he'd came, as far as he could.

And since he was so large—larger than even Bulkhead—that was pretty far.

"Bumblebee!" Sari yelled, firing up her jetpack and taking off in the direction he had been thrown.

"Thanks!" Dreamscreamer told the giant mech, then she took off once again.

0o0o0o0o0

Prowl was now using his jet boosters, because it was the only way to maneuver easily and to be able to see his surroundings better. Plus it didn't take him long to realize he was headed for a crowded area.

It also didn't take him long to notice Bumblebee down on the ground, although he was at least moving and Sari was with him, so he figured they were alright. He had to catch Dreamscreamer, and he had no doubt she was responsible for whatever happened to Bumblebee, one way or another.

It took a few cycles, but he finally spotted her leaving the crowded area. She didn't seem to notice him above her, and he saw her transform into her motorcycle mode and speed off in another direction.

Prowl knew he needed to do something and fast. He had to capture her, but he wanted to be careful not to hurt her either—even though she didn't seem to have the same concern for others, if Bumblebee was any indication.

Perhaps if he could get close enough, he could use his rod weapon on her in order to incapacitate her, at least…

He continued to move forward silently, using his holographic cloak to make him look like he was just part of the sky. He didn't want her to see him until he was ready.

Finally she stopped, having ducked into an alleyway. She hid herself behind a large stack of huge, empty boxes. Prowl took this opportunity to move downward as silently as possible, and his feet hit the ground with him barely making a noise.

Then, in a swift motion, he leapt forward and jabbed Dreamscreamer in the neck with his weapon, causing her to cry out in pain. Then he slapped a pair of stasis cuffs on her—something he had borrowed from a patrolling officer shortly after Bumblebee had gone in pursuit of her.

She groaned, then scowled at him. It was all she could do now.

"Until I am ready to give you another chance to show me you can behave, those stay on," he said, pointing at the stasis cuffs. "And I don't want you to use processor over matter to get out of them, although I am confident I can catch you again if you do."

"Can't chase me forever," Dreamscreamer snipped. "Everyone gives up after a while."

"Yes they do, and many already have," Prowl snipped back. "Warpath wanted me to send you to the stockade. And unless you want to go there, I suggest you let me try to help you, and teach you how to be more civil."

She said nothing, she simply continued to glare at him. Finally, she looked away.

"Where did you learn processor over matter, anyway?" he asked her. "Has someone else been training you?" If he was going to work with her, he needed to know more about her. Plus he was curious about her anyway, especially having seen her abilities.

She refused to look at him, and she did not answer right away. Prowl was starting to think she wasn't going to reply at all, until she finally said, "Nightbird. Her name is Nightbird."


	7. Chapter 7

A small crowd had gathered around the fallen Bumblebee, whom Sari was kneeling next to. She placed a hand on his arm, closing her eyes as she scanned him with her unique "sensing" ability.

"You're going to be okay," Sari told her friend. "You just got a little shaken up, that's all."

"Ugh, feels like I dented a fender," Bumblebee said, and pushed himself into a seated position.

"You probably did," Sari remarked. She cocked her head to one side, feeling a slight itch on her skin beneath her helmet, but tried to ignore it. Out in public, she preferred to keep her helmet up at all times, simply because it helped her blend in better. The attitude toward organics still wasn't all that welcoming.

Just then another presence pushed its way through the crowd, forcing itself to the front. Both Bee and Sari gasped in unison when they realized it was the same big bot who'd thrown Bumblebee.

"I suggest you get away from him, little femme," the burly robot said to Sari, folding his arms across his chest. "I had to protect another young femme from him a few cycles ago."

Sari growled. "Hey!" she snapped. "Bumblebee wouldn't hurt anyone! That 'young femme' as you call her was trying to run away!"

A murmur went through the crowd, and the big burly bot blinked. "Run away?" he asked. "What do you mean?"

"We don't know," Bumblebee said, pushing himself up into a seated position. "Just that Prowl was trying to catch her. Maybe she's an escaped convict or something."

Just then there was a noise overhead, and everyone glanced upward to see Prowl flying overhead with the small Autobot femme in his arms. He cast a glance downward toward Bumblebee and Sari for a moment, pausing in his flight as he did so. Then, apparently deciding that they were both alright, he continued on his way without a word, blasting off in the direction he'd originally come.

Bumblebee transformed into his vehicle mode, then opened the door for Sari. "Come on, we're gonna find out where he's going and what this is all about," he told her.

0o0o0o0o0o0

The more Sentinel had listened to Megatron's words, the more intrigued he'd become. Right at this very moment he was sitting silently before a black screen, knowing that the Decepticon leader would be calling back in a few cycles or so to hear his decision.

The conversation had started out as a simple offer, but as things continued Sentinel found himself listening more and more to the Decepticon, feeling a bit more… open to their way of doing things, and their way of thinking. He actually found Megatron to be quite charming and persuasive in his own way, something he'd never had the opportunity to see before since he'd never actually spoken to a Decepticon like this before. In every other instance, Sentinel was either the captive or the interrogator.

Maybe… just maybe, the Decepticons weren't so bad. At least they had a way of getting things done—things that needed to be done.

However, part of Sentinel wondered if he should even be thinking these things. If he chose to side with the Decepticons, in any way at all, then he would be betraying the Autobots.

Then, even as he thought that, something that Megatron had said during their conversation came back to him: "The Autobots have already betrayed you. They put that insignificant Autobot in charge as the new Magnus and while he is playing it easy on Cybertron with his new power, they kicked you off to hunt Decepticons."

Somehow, the more Megatron had talked, the more Sentinel found he couldn't argue. Frankly, it seemed like the Autobots just used other bots for their own gain. And Sentinel wasn't some lackey that could be ordered about—he should have been on Cybertron right now, helping in any way he could there, not out here hunting comets.

Then Megatron had also made the biggest offer of all, something Sentinel had never gotten from the Autobots. Megatron had actually said that, if Sentinel helped him take out Optimus, Ultra Magnus and the Cybertronian council, then he would make Sentinel his second-in-command as he ruled Cybertron once it was conquered, and would name Sentinel his successor.

If I can rule over the Decepticons one day, Sentinel thought, then I can make sure none of the Autobots get seriously hurt, and maybe I can make the two factions live and work together, one way or another. So the end would justify the means.

Just then, the screen flickered back to life, and Megatron's face appeared. "Have you considered my proposal?" the Decepticon leader asked.

Sentinel's face set into a serious expression. "I'll…" His voice cracked slightly, and he cleared his vocalizer. "I agree—I'll do whatever you ask," he finally said. "So long as you live up to your end of the deal."

Megatron smiled ever so slightly. "Very good," he said.

0o0o0o0o0

Jazz was sitting back in his chair in his quarters, his arms folded across his chest and a large frown on his face. He'd found a way to discreetly patch into the incoming and outgoing communications in Sentinel Prime's quarters. Normally he would never do such a thing, but he had his orders from Optimus Magnus, plus there was something about all of this that made him… suspicious.

And now he'd just observed the most disturbing things possible. Sentinel had received an offer from Megatron to not only aide the Decepticons but join them, it seemed. And apparently Sentinel had just accepted!

I need to contact Optimus, Jazz thought. Hopefully Sentinel would still be busy talking to Megatron for a while so that he could get to the bridge and send the transmission before anyone found out about it.

Jazz took one last look at the screen and then, satisfied that Sentinel and Megatron seemed to be in a deep discussion at the moment, he hurried out of his quarters and headed for the bridge.

0o0o0o0o0

Starscream was well-aware of what was going on, because he'd tapped into the communications systems and was now quite adept at eavesdropping. The fact that Megatron had gotten one of the Autobots to agree to help him was very interesting, and Starscream continued to tinker with his new weapon as he listened in, already attempting to develop a scheme. Surely any situation could be used to his advantage, somehow or other.

He had currently taken up residence in the storage hold, because no one seemed to go in there—or when they did on rare occasion, he could simply duck behind the empty storage crates.

It proved to be the perfect location to hide in, and he could work on his new weapon and do all the spying he wanted to here.

And when the right moment came… maybe he could finally take out Megatron once and for all.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Optimus Magnus had had yet another very hectic day, not only with the normal ongoings of his responsibilities and things the Council wanted to discuss with him about various policies involving Space Bridge use and how to prepare for Decepticon attacks, but also Grimlock had to act up. Apparently, for whatever reason, Grimlock decided to leave the area he'd been given permission to stay in and went into a populated area, where he got provoked and went on a rampage. A few Autobot civilians had been damaged and there had also been some structure damage, but no one was seriously hurt.

It had taken a lot of convincing and persuasion on the behalf of Optimus to keep the Dinobots from being rounded up and shipped off to the stockade. During the time he was trying to stick up for them, part of his processor wondered if that might be the easiest thing at this point, because what with all the other things he had to deal with, his stress levels had already reached their maximum. But he knew that he couldn't let anything like that happen to them. If nothing else, Prowl would never forgive him if he allowed that.

So, once Optimus had managed to get everyone to calm down about the Dinobots, he simply suggested they keep them confined in one of the large apartment complexes for the time being—and Optimus himself said he would take full responsibility for taking care of the cost, and would take care of it if anything got damaged or destroyed. He also ordered a few guards to stay around the complex and stated clearly that they should leave the Dinobots alone, but simply make sure they don't leave the complex.

Optimus knew that that would have to be a temporary solution, because the Dinobots couldn't stay there forever. But it would—hopefully, at least—buy him a little time while he tended to other things, until he could figure out some better arrangements for them.

Then, just as he sat down at his desk and began to look at the message Sari had sent him, another message came through. "Optimus Magnus?" his aide called.

Optimus sighed out loud. "What is it?" he asked her.

"There's someone here to see you, he says it's about the Dinobots."

Now Optimus groaned, and he thought he felt a circuit coming close to frying in his processor. "I thought the matter with the Dinobots was settled," Optimus stated. "They are staying in a building until further notice… unless they've escaped or something." Oh Primus, Optimus thought with an inward groan. Please tell me they didn't escape.

"No sir," his aide said, "they haven't escaped, this bot simply wants to talk to you on behalf of his… pet, so he says."

"Yeah that's right!" came a familiar voice. "I want Snarl back, and I want him now!"

Optimus's optics dimmed a bit as he shook his head. That had been the voice of Scrapper. "Fine, send him in," Optimus muttered.

Optimus then had just enough time to finish listening to Sari's message before Scrapper came in.

"So when's my pet gonna be let out?" Scrapper asked. "You know, it wasn't Snarly's fault that those other Dinobots went on a ruckus. Snarl was with me the whole time and perfectly happy."

"Yes I know," Optimus said, "but I did the only thing I could do on short notice. Bots aren't too happy with the Dinobots being loose right now, and unfortunately since Snarl is a Dinobot, he had to go with them."

"So when are they gonna be let out?" Scrapper demanded. "You can't just keep them locked up forever!"

"Well it's better than having them shipped off to the stockade," Optimus sighed. He was getting tired of dealing with this issue—he had a lot of other things to deal with right now, and one of them was figuring out what to do about Sari's message. Part of him almost wondered if they should have simply left the Dinobots on Earth—although he also knew that that simply wasn't an option.

"Look," Optimus finally said, an idea forming, "why don't you look around and see if you can come up with a plan on what to do about the Dinobots. All they need is someplace where they can be free, be happy, and not be able to bother anyone. If you can come up with a plan, bring it to me and I'll see what I can do."

Scrapper frowned. "Sounds like that might take some work, and some time," he muttered.

"It's the best offer I've got right now," Optimus said, with a take-it-or-leave-it kind of shrug. Besides maybe if you can figure out something, it'll be one less thing I have to worry about, the new Magnus thought to himself.

"Hmmm," Scrapper said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Well alright then, I'll see what I can do. I'll then come and talk to you again once I've got something!" With that, he turned and walked out.

Once he was gone, Optimus turned his attention back to his communication terminal, trying to figure out how he was going to answer Sari's message. In a nutshell, the girl was feeling lonely and useless on Cybertron, and he couldn't blame her one bit. But what was he supposed to do? Pull a proverbial rabbit out of a proverbial hat, as the humans would say, and make her life every bit as event-filled and exciting as it had been on Earth?

It seemed like far too many wanted—no, expected—him to pull rabbits out of his hat as it was.

Just as he was going to begin to try and reply, his communications terminal came to life again. "What now?" Optimus muttered, not happy at being interrupted—until he saw who it was.

"Jazz?" he said, optics blinking.

"Optimus Magnus, sir," the white ninja began, "I've got some very disturbing news for you."

"Oh?" Optimus said, leaning forward. "What is it?"

"It seems that Sentinel has—"

Suddenly there was a burst of static, and then the screen went blank.

"Jazz?" Optimus said. But the link had been broken, and even when he tried, Optimus could not get it back. "Great," he finally muttered, "Sentinel… what have you done now?"

0o0o0o0o0

"You didn't think I'd let anyone make any calls without me knowing about it, did you?" Sentinel growled as he entered the bridge, walking up behind Jazz.

Jazz turned and looked over his shoulder toward Sentinel.

Before the ninja could say anything, Sentinel held up a device in his servo. "I found this little thing in my quarters," he said. "And I know there's only one bot onboard who would try and monitor my communications." Sentinel glared. "And I caught you making an un-authorized transmission to Cybertron just a moment ago."

Jazz stood up, turning to face the Prime. "I know what you're up to," he said. "And you're not going to get away with it."

"I already am," Sentinel said. "Believe me, Jazz, it's for the best. And right now, we're going to rendezvous with Megatron and Omega Supreme."

"Are you jivin' me?" Jazz gasped. "You can't possibly be serious—"

"I am serious!" Sentinel snapped. "And you can either sit down and take this ship to rendezvous at coordinates 44, 701, 304, or you can rust in the brig for the rest of the trip!"

Jazz tensed. He knew he would be useless if he was put in the brig, and he actually began to contemplate his ability to beat Sentinel in servo-to-servo combat. That might be a bit more difficult though, if Jetfire and Jetstorm were still truly on his side. I never thought I'd ever be thinking about putting up the dukes with my own teammates, the ninja thought.

"Alright," Jazz said, slowly sinking back down into his seat.

"Very good," Sentinel said. "And don't try anything, because I'm gonna be watching you."

Jazz began to punch in the coordinates. Maybe… if he was careful, he could still find a way to get the data to Optimus on Cybertron. He would play along with Sentinel, for now. The best thing to do was play along and keep himself from getting damaged or locked up.

Perhaps if worst came to worse, he could sabotage the ship's systems a bit, to slow them down at the very least.

0o0o0o0o0o

When Prowl arrived back at the apartment complex where he resided, he shifted Dreamscreamer in his arms so that she rested against his shoulder. He didn't want to risk putting her down for fear she might escape the stasis cuffs and run off again, but he needed a free servo to open the door.

That was when he noticed he had a small crowd of curious onlookers behind him. He frowned toward them, but chose to ignore them for the most part. It wasn't like this was any of their business anyway.

"Prowl!" came a familiar voice, and the ninja winced slightly. "What's going on? Who is she?"

Prowl saw that Bumblebee had transformed from his vehicle mode and was now standing just behind him. Sari was right there with him. However he knew that he probably wouldn't get any peace until he told them, and it wasn't like he had anything to hide anyway. "Come inside," he said, and finished punching in the code to open the door.

Dreamscreamer, who had been strangely silent up to this point, made sort of a hissing noise as Prowl walked into the complex, closely followed by Bumblebee and Sari. The ninja lead to way to his quarters and then lead them all inside.

The quarters were very nicely arranged, having an oriental carpet on the floor, a sparse amount of furniture and a botted bush sitting in the corner of the living area on a desk, right beside the computer terminal. Prowl's weapons also hung on the walls.

Prowl set Dreamscreamer down on the couch, then pulled over a chair to sit beside her. Bumblebee plopped himself down in one of the other chairs, and Sari pulled herself up into the yellow bot's lap.

"So who is she?" Bumblebee asked.

"Yeah and why were you chasing her?" Sari asked.

Prowl never took his eyes off the femme, who seemed to be content to lie there silently and glare everyone—though she glared at him the most.

"She is Dreamscreamer, my new apprentice," Prowl found himself saying.

Dreamscreamer blinked, then narrowed her optics. "You're not gonna teach me anything!" she spat. "Only Nightbird can teach me anything."

"How do you know Nightbird?" Prowl found himself asking. He'd only known Nightbird very briefly, and only because she was Oil Slick's girlfriend back when they were training together. Oil Slick and Nightbird had joined the Decepticons, and no one knew much of where they were these days or what they were up to.

"She found me," Dreamscreamer grumbled. She didn't seem to like being asked questions, and she seemed to only want to say enough to get Prowl off her back.

"Found you where?" Prowl pressed. "Where do you come from?"

"A colony world. One destroyed by Decepticons. I lost my creators, but Nightbird took care of me." Dreamscreamer looked away. "She taught me a lot of things."

"Including processor over matter," Prowl said. "And I could see that you have learned Circuit-Su as well."

Dreamscreamer said nothing. She hadn't moved at all, even though Prowl knew she could probably escape from the stasis cuffs any time she chose, considering her skill in processor over matter.

So he decided to ask her about it. "Why haven't you removed the cuffs yet?"

She scowled at him. "Think I won't?" Two seconds later, the cuffs snapped off of her wrists and fell on the floor with a clatter. She then moved abruptly, and Prowl moved as well in case she tried to run, but she did not. All she did was sit up on the couch and swing her legs over the edge so that her feet touched the floor. She remained seated, however.

"I'm never going to get used to that processor over matter thing," Bumblebee said. "Sometimes I wish I could do that!"

"Takes a lot of focus, practice, and skill," Dreamscreamer murmured. "Nightbird always said I have a special knack for it."

"Where is Nightbird now?" Prowl asked. "When did you last see her?"

"I don't know, must have been about fifty stellar cycles ago," Dreamscreamer muttered. "Our ship got infected with space barnacles, and somehow they multiplied even faster than usual. We lost control of the ship, and had to evacuate. I was alone and I got separated from Nightbird, along with everyone else. I guess I even crashed on a different planet than they did. No one ever found me. I ended up having to hitch a ride with a bot named Swindle to get off."

"How did you end up on Cybertron?" Prowl asked her.

"Didn't have anywhere else to go."

Prowl frowned. Somehow he got the feeling that there was something she wasn't telling him. Call it ninja intuition, but he felt that she either wasn't telling him the truth, or she wasn't telling him the whole truth.


	8. Chapter 8

Oil Slick was currently working in his lab, attempting to cook up another batch of cosmic rust. The concoction had proven to be a useful item against any kind of bot, and it was fatal if the antidote was not administered in time.

He, along with the rest of Team Char, were currently residing within an old abandoned research station out in the middle of nowhere. It was a place where he'd been able to get a lot of work done without many interruptions, something which he appreciated right now.

As far as he knew, there was only one other Decepticons within the base at the moment. Spittor and the others were off investigating a couple of Decepticon signals they had managed to pinpoint nearby, in order to see who it was. Oil Slick honestly didn't care if they found any other Decepticons or not, just so long as he could get his work done.

He concentrated on his chemical mixture, attempting to find a way to make the dosage even more potent and lethal than it already was. He wanted to lessen the chances of any form of antidote working against his concoction.

Eventually he found a specific blend of chemicals that he thought was worth trying out, although he would have to wait until they'd captured a useless prisoner—or until they fought another battle—before he could see how well it worked.

Just as he finished up his latest batch of the rust he detected a presence behind him. He didn't hear her approach, for she made little or no noise when she walked. But having been trained in the ways of the cyber ninja, he knew how to detect movement without even seeing or hearing it.

But he knew how to detect her movements in particular, because he knew her so well.

"Nightbird," he acknowledged without even glancing up. He finished putting his new batch of cosmic rust away inside a small container, which he then placed within a compartment on his own robot mode.

She said nothing, although he could feel his optics on his back, scanning him over. She truly was a silent one, even more silent than most ninjas. But he felt he knew her well enough to consider her his girlfriend, and someone he could trust moderately.

He turned to face her, giving her the same scrutiny she'd given him a moment ago. She was mostly dark gray in color, having traces of purple and gold on her armor. And, as usual, her faceplate was up over her face, so that only her fiery-red optics were visible.

Oil Slick rarely saw her with her faceplate down, although he had on few occasions, such as the first night their lips met for a brief kiss. He smiled slightly at the thought, though the smile faded quickly. There were more important matters to attend to.

"Have you received any word from Megatron?" he asked.

Nightbird gave a slight shake of her head. "Negative. There have been zero communications." Her voice was always cool and mechanical, especially when she spoke quietly. But those who had been around her for a long time knew how to pick up the soft, feminine touch that her voice contained.

"Very well," Oil Slick said. He glanced around his lab one last time, to make certain he had put everything away. One time when he'd been careless enough to leave out some of his most dangerous chemicals, the result had been disastrous when someone entered the lab during his absence and knocked over one of the containers. The end result had been a terrible chemical fire, resulting in the termination of the bot who'd gone into his lab, as well as the destruction of all Oil Slick's equipment and other chemicals.

One of the many things that Oil Slick had learned over the past few thousand stellar cycles was that, no matter how much you thought through things are tried to be prepared, no amount of planning or precautionary measures could be completely idiot-proof.

Once he was finally satisfied that everything dangerous, or at least flammable, were locked up or placed under the desk behind the "DO NOT TOUCH" sign, he turned toward the door and gestured Nightbird to exit, indicating he would follow. She turned and left the lab, and then he stepped out and turned back only to lock the door.

"I take it the rest of our comrades are out looking for those stray Decepticon blips we detected earlier?" Oil Slick asked as they proceeded down the hallway, toward the control center.

"Yes," Nightbird replied in that low voice of hers. "So far they have not reported back."

"They are probably out on a wild asteroid chase, but if they do manage to find something it may be worthwhile," Oil Slick commented.

They arrived at the control center, where Oil Slick sat down at one of the work stations while Nightbird occupied her usual spot. A silence fell between them as they began to do some work—which included some monitor duty—when they finally received a communication.

Nightbird tapped a control, and the giant viewscreen lit up with the familiar face of Megatron.

"Lord Megatron," Oil Slick greeted, rising from his seat.

"Where is Striker?" Megatron asked, his cool optics surveying the control room from the screen.

"Out with Spittor, Cyclonus and Blackout," Oil Slick replied, "searching for a couple of stray Decepticon signals we picked up."

"Ah," Megatron said simply. "Well that is unimportant; I simply called to say that things are going according to plan on this end."

"The Autobot joined with you?"

"Indeed he has. Now tell me how things are going on your end."

Oil Slick glanced over his shoulder toward Nightbird. "I believe this is your show," the chemist expert said to her.

Nightbird gazed into the viewscreen for a moment, then rose from her seat and moved to stand beside Oil Slick.

"My minion has been properly programmed," Nightbird said to her leader. "She will find the one we seek and bring him to us."

Megatron's optics narrowed slightly. "She will not give anything away, will she?"

"No, Lord Megatron," Nightbird replied coolly. "She has been programmed with false memories, believing she is from a colony world that was destroyed by Decepticons. She only remembers me as her mentor, someone who trained her and took care of her."

"Very well," Megatron said. "But I heard that the brainwashing you put her through made her somewhat unstable."

"It has, but I believe this factor will be advantageous to us."

"Oh? How so?"

"Because she will be seen as an out of control, malcontent," Nightbird said. "There is a high probability that she will be taken in by the one Autobot on Cybertron who may have the patience to try and handle her, and shortly thereafter, come to look for me."

"The Autobot Prowl," Megatron said with a nod. From his intelligence reports from Cybertron—thanks to Shockwave's ability to decode some scrambled frequencies, thanks to his time among the Autobots, and some help from Sentinel—Megatron knew that Prowl was more or less considered one of the most powerful ninjas on Cybertron, especially since he wore Yoketron's armor and had helped defeat Omega Supreme's clones on Earth, alongside the aide of the Magnus hammer.

And thus, Prowl was definitely a potential threat to the Decepticons, and to Megatron's plans. Apparently things were going smoothly so far, in the plans to gain Sentinel's aide to get rid of Optimus and Ultra Magnus—and hopefully, the Magnus hammer itself. But getting rid of Prowl was mainly Nightbird's responsibility.

"I suspect that Prowl will want to come look for me," Nightbird said. "And once I have him where I want him, Oil Slick and I can take care of him."

"See that you do not fail me," Megatron warned her, and he glanced toward Oil Slick to include him in on the warning.

"We will not," Nightbird said. There was nothing in her tone that suggested she was boasting, it was simply a high level of confidence that showed in her mostly emotionless voice.

"Keep up the work, and keep me informed of your progress. Megatron out." The screen went blank.

Oil Slick and Nightbird exchanged glances, then silently resumed their stations. Some time passed, and they each finished filling out some reports as well as repairing a few glitches within the computer systems onboard the ship. However, there was still no word from Team Char.

"Perhaps we should go out and look for them," Oil Slick said at one point. "To make certain nothing has happened."

"They are not responding to communications," Nightbird commented. "Although they may be out of range."

"Most likely," Oil Slick said with a sigh. "Shall we go?"

Nightbird hesitated for a moment, perhaps slightly uneasy about leaving the base empty and unmonitored, but she finally said, "I would welcome a change of scenery for my weary optics."

After flashing a brief smile, Oil Slick transformed into his Cybertronian motorcycle mode. "Climb aboard," he told her, with a touch of playfulness in his voice. They had done this many times before.

Nightbird walked over to his side and, swinging her left leg over him, she sat down on his seat and leaned forward to grab his handle bars. She was one of the few bots who did not have a vehicle mode, for she felt that her robot mode, along with all of her weapons and skills, were more than enough.

Oil Slick sped out of the control room and down the hallway. The door to the outside opened automatically as he approached, having detected his presence and recognizing him. So he simply headed out the door and kept on going across the large asteroid that the station was resting on.

"You know," Oil Slick said as he continued to roll, "if you got your own vehicle mode, you could do this yourself."

Nightbird said nothing, and he knew that she was giving him the same answer she'd given him every other time he'd said that. She didn't want a vehicle mode, and she felt it was useless to say her reasons out loud, because that would only lead to a debate, which was something she didn't want when she had no intention of changing her mind. So why should she say anything?

If Oil Slick had been in his robot mode he would have shrugged and rolled his optics. He really wished she would get an alternate mode for herself, because he was one of the few who was willing to give her a lift when she needed it, so to speak. But he couldn't exactly convince her to do something she didn't want to do, could he?

Suddenly, both of them received a message on their personal commlinks. Oil Slick came to a screeching halt that nearly threw Nightbird off his back. Once he stopped, and once the femme had climbed off, Oil Slick transformed into his bipedal mode. He then realized that Nightbird's hands had dented his handlebars slightly, but he ignored it.

"Oil Slick, Nightbird," came Striker's voice, "We have found what appear to be two Starscream clones. It seems they have been wandering aimlessly in this area of space for some time, and they wish to serve Megatron and battle Autobots. I am taking them back to the base."

"Very well, then," Oil Slick answered. He glanced at Nightbird, then said into his commlink, "We await your return, Oil Slick out."

With that, the mech transformed back into his motorcycle mode. Nightbird silently climbed back onto him without a word, and as she did so he said, "Please don't squeeze my handlebars too tightly again."

Nightbird cocked her head to one side and, in a tone of quiet amusement she said, "You never complain about pressure to your biceps when we interface, yet you complain about your handlebars?"

Oil Slick coughed, feeling glad that their commlinks were currently off. "My handlebars are made of more sensitive material."

Nightbird's optics blinked, and Oil Slick could tell she was about to say something.

"DON'T say it," Oil Slick said before she could speak. He knew she had a dirty mind, at least when her thought processes began to wander down a specific train of thought. And right now, he didn't want to hear it, especially not out here. Someone might hear it, after all.

With that he roared his engine and began to speed across the asteroid's surface, back in the direction they'd came, in order to get them both back to the base.


	9. Chapter 9

"Why do you keep giving everyone such a hard time?" Prowl asked tersely, beginning to lose his patience.

A full day had passed since Prowl had brought Dreamscreamer to his residence, and he'd spent most of the time since then trying to teach her patience and self-discipline. It wasn't going very well, and so far he'd had to stop her from escaping his living quarters twice. How in the world this femme could have possibly mastered processor over matter was beyond him.

Dreamscreamer glared up at him. She was currently sitting the floor, stubbornly sitting still when Prowl had been trying to get her to perform some relaxing, stretching exercises. It was actually one of the few times all day she had bothered to sit still for more than ten seconds, however it was in defiance to him, like pretty much everything else she did.

Prowl folded his arms across his chassis, returning the glare with one of his own. "I am waiting for an answer," he told her coolly. "Why do you keep giving me—and everyone else—such a hard time?"

She looked away. "Why shouldn't I?" she finally snipped.

"Because I for one am trying to help you," Prowl replied.

She still didn't look at him. "I'd be fine if everyone would just leave me alone!"

A frown passed over Prowl's features. "Dreamscreamer, nothing is going to be accomplished if you don't start listening to me or letting me help you. It is only because of me, and Jazz's observations of your skill, that have kept you out of the stockade. Do you think so little of what others have tried to do for you?"

"Yes!"

Prowl blinked. The fact that she could so readily dismiss others' selfless attempts to help her astounded him. He felt anger rising up in his spark, but he stuffed it down. Yes he was upset with her, but losing his temper wouldn't make this situation any better.

"Would you prefer it if I chose to send you to the stockade?" he asked, trying a different tactic. He simply wanted to hear what she had to say to that.

"I can survive anywhere, just so long as everyone leaves me alone!" Dreamscreamer spat.

Prowl let out a noise that was somewhere between a growl and a sigh. Frankly, this femme was nearly impossible to deal with, especially since she wouldn't let anyone get through to her. To make matters worse, Prowl still had a feeling in his spark that there was something she wasn't telling him, as if there was something about her beneath the surface that he wasn't seeing.

He was just about to reply when he heard a knock on the door. "Come in," he called without taking his eyes off the femme. Knowing her, she'd probably try to make a run for it if he took his optics away for one moment.

The door opened and Sari stepped inside. She had her helmet up and she had her jetpack on her back, suggesting she had flown over. Once the door had closed behind her, she allowed her helmet to go down and she took off her jetpack and leaned it against the wall.

"Um, hi Prowl," Sari said slowly, casting a wary glance toward Dreamscreamer, who wasn't even looking at her. "I hope you don't mind me dropping in. It's just that Bumblebee got his Xbox fixed somehow and I got bored after a while."

"Actually I am glad you're here," Prowl said, still not taking his optics off of Dreamscreamer. "I would like your help with something."

"Oh?" Sari said, looking intrigued. This was the first time since she'd come to Cybertron that anyone had asked for her help. "With what?"

"I want you to use your sensing powers to see if you can detect any malfunction or abnormality within Dreamscreamer," the ninja answered. He figured that since Sari had been able to tell Ratchet how to fully restore Arcee's memory, despite even Perceptor's insistence that her memory was gone, perhaps she could assist here. And if there was something going on with Dreamscreamer, perhaps Sari was the key to finding it out.

"NO!" Dreamscreamer shrieked, causing Sari to jump. "KEEP THAT LITTLE THING AWAY FROM ME!"

Dreamscreamer jumped to her feet and began to run toward the door, but Prowl was faster. He moved toward her so quickly that Sari later swore she didn't even see him move at all; he was simply at the door, and grabbing the femme just before she could escape out the door.

Sari had to cover her ears as Prowl half-carried, half-dragged the struggling Dreamscreamer away from the door, because her screaming had reached an all-time high. Prowl ended up holding her down on the floor, pinning her legs beneath her and securing her arms behind her. And from the way that she kept on struggling and squirming, Sari had to admit one thing; the ninja had a very good grip.

"Sari!" Prowl yelled to be heard over Dreamscreamer's shrieks, "Now!"

"I hope she doesn't bite me," Sari muttered to herself, though she could barely even hear her own voice. Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward and placed a hand on Dreamscreamer's knee.

0o0o0o0o0o0

"What is it, Nightbird?" Oil Slick asked.

Everyone was in the main control room; the past couple of days had been busy with the usual work, alongside with a two-day debriefing consisting of filling the Starscream clones in on all they'd missed, plus finding out everything that the clones knew.

It also seemed as though Strika was trying to help the cowardly one get a backbone, which wasn't going well.

Nightbird had suddenly tensed and slipped out of the control room, hurrying down the corridor to one of the storage rooms, where she could be by herself. Oil Slick was the only one who'd noticed her slip out.

He had followed her into the storage room and closed the door behind him. "Nightbird, was is wrong?" he asked her again.

"Someone is attempting to access the core programming I placed in Dreamscreamer," Nightbird said, her optics dimming as she focused on something only she could see. Despite the fact that she and her minion were thousands of light years apart, a link between them still remained.

"Access it?" Oil Slick echoed, taking another step toward her. "For what purpose? Have they discovered it?"

"Unknown—I believe they are attempting to identify it. Whether or not they will be successful is unknown."

"This makes things more complicated," Oil Slick murmured. "Though I thought you said that you planted a program that wouldn't be detectable by anyone."

"Perhaps the Autobots have a scanning method I did not anticipate."

"Then what can be done?" Oil Slick asked. "If the Autobots find out about the core programming, then the plan will be ruined!"

Nightbird placed a servo on her forehead, concentrating.

0o0o0o0o0

"Hey I think I'm getting something," Sari said, raising her voice to be heard above the screams. Her entire focus was on what she was doing and so her optics were dimmed.

"Yes?" Prowl said, gritting his dental plating. He was still trying to hold Dreamscreamer firmly in place. He was able to do so, but it was taking a lot of his strength to do it. She was small, but quite able to fight against his grip.

"Hang on… there seems to be something in her core processor, but I'm having trouble identifying it. Give me a minute," Sari answered, and fell silent. The soft aura around her hand, where she was touching Dreamscreamer's knee to keep the connection going, began to glow even more brightly.

0o0o0o0o0

Nightbird's optics flickered on and off for a moment. She had sensed what was happening, at least somewhat—it seemed that someone was actually looking into Dreamscreamer's core processor, in a way that Nightbird hadn't thought the Autobots were capable of.

In fact, whoever it was, they seemed to be on their way to investigating and possibly identifying the purpose of the programming—not only that, but if they kept going, they might even be able to detect the link between Dreamscreamer and Nightbird herself.

Quickly deciding that she had no other choice, Nightbird quickly activated a failsafe she'd planted deep within her minion's core processor, just in case things went awry. She activated the sub-routine, then temporarily killed the link between them.

0o0o0o0o

Sari gasped when Dreamscreamer suddenly began to power down, all of her struggling and screaming ceasing. Prowl looked just as surprised as Sari did, although he continued to hold her in a firm grip just in case.

Withdrawing her hand, Sari muttered, "Okay, what just happened?"

Suddenly, Dreamscreamer's optics flickered on and off, and a single sentence escaped her vocalizer: "Only Nightbird can help me…" Then her optics went out like a light, and she went completely limp.

Sari gasped softly, staring at the femme's face. "Nightbird?" she said. "Isn't that the one she said trained her?"

"Yes," Prowl said, taking a chance and a loosening his grip. "But Nightbird is with the Decepticons now."

"Well, I can tell you that I started to see something in her systems," Sari said. "I don't know what it was exactly because I couldn't get a good look, but it looked like a hidden subprogram was active in her core processor, which caused some of her behavioral routines and emotional processes to, ummm…" She hesitated, cocking her head to one side, as if trying to think of the right word to say. "Glitch up, I guess you could say," she finally finished.

"If this is true," Prowl said thoughtfully, as he laid Dreamscreamer's now limp form on the floor, "then it's possible Nightbird may have planted something in her. But why?"

"No idea, but I can tell you one more thing," Sari said slowly. "It seemed like… she was connected to someone or something."

Prowl looked up. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that it felt like she was linked to someone, like, another processor or something."

"Could it have been Nightbird?"

"I have no idea," Sari shrugged. "I've never even met her, you know."

"Hmm," Prowl purred thoughtfully. "If there is a subprogram in her processor causing these behaviors—the same one that most likely caused her to shut down just now—it could be acting as a virus, and Nightbird could be responsible."

"Do you think that Nightbird might be able to help her, like she said?" Sari asked.

"I do not know," Prowl said. "I am uncertain if she was programmed to say that in the event of a core processor shutdown, or if she said it willfully." He frowned down at Dreamscreamer's offline, expressionless face. "If she was programmed to say it, it might be a trap."

"Maybe I should try scanning her again," Sari said.

Prowl nodded slightly, and the red-head stepped forward and placed her hand on Dreamscreamer's shoulder. In many ways, the femme almost looked like she was dead; the only indications she was still very much alive was the fact that she'd retained her silver, green and blue colors, plus her armor plating still felt warm to the touch.

Sari's hand glowed softly as she used her sensing power on Dreamscreamer, but after a moment she pulled back her hand. "I'm not getting anything," Sari said, disappointed. "Everything is operating at peak efficiency on a mechanical level, but I can't access her programming to take a look at it unless she's awake."

Prowl nodded in understanding. "Then… we may have to try and locate Nightbird," he said slowly. "It may be her only hope."

"You sure that's such a good idea?" Sari asked. "Maybe one of the Autobots can do something for her."

"From what I understand, even the best didn't find anything wrong with her," Prowl remarked.


	10. Chapter 10

"Where are you going?"

Nightbird glanced up, turning to regard Oil Slick as he walked up behind her. "I am going to a place where I can allow Dreamscreamer to lead Prowl to me," she said simply.

Oil Slick frowned slightly. He didn't like the idea of her going off on her own like that, although he knew that she was more than capable of looking after herself. Normally he wouldn't even think much about it, since he knew her skills better than anyone. But this was Prowl that she was luring to herself. And that one Autobot ninja had become very, very powerful.

"Are you certain this is wise?" he asked her with concern.

"If I lure him to a location of my choosing," Nightbird told him, "that increases the chances of me taking him by surprise."

"That is true, but I am still uncertain if this is a wise idea."

"Opinion noted. Now excuse me." Nightbird turned and began to move away, feeling Oil Slick's optics on her back as she retreated down the corridor.

0o0o0o0o0

Sentinel had, in the end, apparently decided that he didn't want to take any chances with Jazz. So the Prime had had the Jet Twins escort him to the brig.

Jazz had tried to reason with them, to get them to understand what Sentinel was doing. However, they obediently brought Jazz to the brig and locked him up, apparently not wanting to go against the orders of their superior.

Could it be that they were frightened of Sentinel, in their own way? Jazz couldn't help but notice that they looked like someone had run over their cyber puppy as they pushed him into the brig and activated the force-field. Perhaps they were just too young to think for themselves much yet. In their own way they still admired Sentinel very much, especially since he was the first Prime they'd served under.

Jazz could understand that they were loyal, although right now he really wished that a few more of Optimus's old crew had come along on the ship. He could definitely use a servo right now.

He could only watch helplessly as the jet twins walked away, heading back in the direction of the bridge.

"I need to do something, fast," Jazz murmured to himself. But what he could possibly do in here… he had no idea.

0o0o0o0o0

Starscream was once again hiding in the cargo area, sitting with his back against one of the huge, empty crates. For the most part he was hidden from view, although if anyone happened to walk in through the door they might have noticed the purple wingtips sticking out on either side.

He was clutching the weapon in his hands, already formulating a plan. The fact was, he had actually been able to deduce part of what Megatron was up to. He'd been able to eavesdrop on several incoming and outgoing transmissions, and thus been able to determine a pattern.

During one of the communications with Team Char, Starscream had found out that apparently Megatron wanted the Autobot Prowl out of the way—who was a powerful cyber ninja. Not only that, but apparently one of the crew members onboard the ship that Sentinel was on was also a cyber ninja. And one of the reasons why Megatron was interested in that crew—besides his ability to recruit Sentinel, of course—was because he wanted that ninja, Jazz, in a place where he could personally keep an eye on him.

That means Megatron wants all of the cyber ninjas out of the way, because they are a powerful force that could threaten his power, Starscream thought to himself, smirking as he cradled his weapon in his hands. This was definitely a situation that he could use to his advantage, if he played his cards right.

0o0o0o0o0

The Elite Guard vessel arrived at the pre-arranged coordinates, right on schedule. It docked with Omega Supreme, and then Megatron wasted no time at all. He ordered all of the Autobots except for Sentinel himself to be taken prisoner—and he specifically ordered that the cyber ninja, Jazz, be separated from the Autobot brothers and placed in a more secure area.

Once the three Autobots were taken away, Megatron turned to Sentinel. "You have done well so far," the Decepticon leader said. "It seems my faith in you has not been misplaced."

"Yeah well, so long as you live up to your end of the bargain I will live up to mine," Sentinel said.

Megatron smirked ever so slightly. "Oh yes, we shall each live up to our ends of the bargain." But after that, I will owe you nothing at all, fool, he thought.

"Come with me," Megatron said, already moving down the hall. "I have much to discuss with you, but not out here."

0o0o0o0o0

Jazz found himself being escorted to another cell, although he was a little unsure why he was being separated from Jetfire and Jetstorm. He'd specifically heard Megatron order him to be "taken to a more secure location".

Why was this? Did Megatron consider him a more serious threat for some reason? But whatever the reason, Jazz found himself being put into a small but secure holding cell with a thick force-field.

Jazz had never been aboard Omega Supreme before, but he did have to admit… for a vessel meant for massive destruction, Omega certainly had some good holding cells.

Once Lugnut—the Decepticon who had escorted him to his cell—left, Jazz began to look around, trying to figure out a way to escape.

"Psst."

Jazz's audio sensors picked up a faint noise. He looked around—the cell itself was empty except for him, so if he'd heard anything, it had to be coming from outside.

"Psst."

There it was again. Jazz moved as close to the force-field as he could without touching it, peering out the doorway to see who was there.

He didn't see anyone.

"Who is there?" he called out.

"Shhh!" came the voice, and then a presence stepped into full view.

"Starscream?" Jazz said, his optics widening behind his visor and his jaw dropping.

"Yes, it is I," Starscream said with an egotistical smirk. The Allspark fragment in his forehead glimmered brightly. "And I'm here to make you a deal, Autobot."

"A deal?" Jazz echoed, not quite sure if he believed his audios. "What kind of deal?"

"You want to get out of that cell, and I want to stop Megatron," Starscream said. "And I think I would be right in assuming that, overall, we have a similar goal."

"You want to stop Megatron so you can take his place," Jazz said. "The Autobots want to stop him because—"

"He is your enemy," Starscream finished for him. "You see, we both have something in common then. Megatron is an enemy to us both. We both have reasons to want him out of the way, but I can't do anything alone. Every time I try, I end up getting shot down or having to rebuild myself."

"So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I will let you out of there if you agree to work with me," Starscream said. "Better still if you agree to serve under me."

"I ain't serving under a Decepticon," Jazz said, folding his arms. And I thought Sentinel was bad to serve under, he thought, knowing that working for a Decepticon would be ten times worse.

Or would it? Frankly, at this point, he wasn't sure if there was much difference between a standard Decepticon or Sentinel Prime.

"Fine then, just consider this an alliance!" Starscream snipped impatiently. He took a moment to glance both ways, making sure no one was coming, then turned his attention back to Jazz. "Look, you can either help me or stay and rust in that cell. Now which is it?"

"How do I know you won't backstab me the moment you get a chance?"

"Frankly, you don't. Though I could easily say the same thing about you."

Jazz nodded ever so slightly in acknowledgement. "Well then, I guess we'll each be watching each other," he finally said.

"Does that mean you agree?"

"Yeah."

"Good." Starscream held up a device in his hand and caused the force-field to shut off.

Jazz cautiously stepped out of the cell, glancing around to make certain there was no one else around. All the while he kept the corner of his optics on Starscream. "So would you mind telling me what you're doing here?"

"I stowed away," Starscream replied. "I have been waiting for the right moment to make my move."

"And you figured your first move would be to bust me out?"

"Essentially, yes. I know all about Megatron's plans and what he's up to."

"Then I guess you have me at a disadvantage." Jazz focused his gaze on Starscream, cocking his head to one side. "Any idea why he chose to put me in a more secure cell?"

"Because you're a cyber ninja."

"Eh, so?"

"So," Starscream said, spreading his arms out in an exasperated manner, "it means he considers you dangerous!" The Decepticon blurted that out as if it was totally obvious.

"Does he now?" Jazz murmured, stroking his chin with his hand. The white-mech ninja looked intrigued. "Perhaps you should tell me more of what you know about this, so we can figure out how to use this to our advantage."

"Not out here," Starscream said, looking around again. "Someone might see us." He gestured for Jazz to follow and began to move away, down the corridor.

"Where are we goin'?" Jazz asked, following with some hesitation.

"To the storage hold," Starscream answered. "It's the best hiding place I know."

0o0o0o0o0

"So you are going to look for Nightbird?" Sari asked, following Prowl out the front door of the residence building. She had her helmet and faceplate up, in order to blend in better.

Prowl was carrying Dreamscreamer's limp form in his arms, frowning slightly as he walked. "I am going to look into it, at least," he told Sari without looking at her. "Although I am unsure where to begin looking."

"Prowl, can I come with you?" Sari asked.

Prowl glanced at her, although he didn't stop walking. "I'm not sure if that is wise. Nightbird is a Decepticon and could be dangerous."

Sari was pleased in her own way that Prowl hadn't told her "no" outright, as Optimus or any of the Autobots would have before she'd upgraded herself with her key. Nowadays they definitely respected her abilities, although she still got a little uptight when she felt she was being treated like a kid.

"Hey I was there when you guys went up against Megatron, remember?" Sari pointed out, quickening her pace so that she was walking at Prowl's side rather than trailing along behind him. "I can handle myself, Prowl! And it's not like I have anything better to do! Bulkhead's never home, all Bumblebee does is play games, and I'm not going to let you leave me alone here where I'll just be bored out of my skull!"

Prowl glanced downward at her again and then said, "Fine, you may come along. But stay with me at all times; Nightbird is a cyber ninja, and not to be underestimated."

Sari stuck up her thumb, smiling. "You got it."

They resumed walking in silence for a moment, until the red-headed girl finally broke it. "So where are we going first?"

0o0o0o0o0

"I still think you should get a vehicle mode for yourself," Oil Slick said as he watched Nightbird checking over her weapons, trying to decide which ones she wanted to take with her and which ones needed adjusting or sharpening.

She made no reply; she simply grabbed a handful of spinning stars, checking them over to make certain they were properly sharp, then putting them into a compartment on the side of her chassis.

"I know you don't agree with me," Oil Slick said, holding up his hands and taking a step toward her. "But this time I am going to insist. You want to go there along, correct? Then you're going to need every advantage you can possibly get."

Nightbird picked up her energy sword, glancing at him out of the corner of her optic as she activated it and gave it an experimental swing. "I do not require a vehicle mode," she stated coolly.

"I think you do," Oil Slick said. "Especially since you don't want me, or anyone else, to come with you." He folded his arms across his chest. "You know, I could go with you, if you would allow it."

Nightbird shook her head. "This is something I have to do on my own."

"But why?"

"Dreamscreamer is my minion and I intend to get her back. Plus I wish to prove myself by fighting against Prowl, and beating him."

"Nightbird, you should not underestimate the wearer of Yoketron's helmet, especially since we've heard how powerful he's become. He survived a battle with Megatron when he was using clones of the Autobots' ultimate weapon."

"Indeed, and this would be an ample opportunity to test my own abilities." Nightbird clipped her sword onto her side and turned to look at him fully. "I have come so far in my training, I want to test myself against the one Yoketron proclaimed as having the most potential."

"Ah, I think I am beginning to understand," Oil Slick said thoughtfully. "You were the only other student of Yoketron who he said that too, and you wish you could have had the chance to best him in battle instead of Lockdown."

Nightbird turned away. "No," she said. "Well, in a way you are sort of correct, I suppose, but at the same time you are not. Part of me will always love Yoketron—he was the closest thing I had to a father. Part of me hates Lockdown for killing him. But at the same it made me realize that both the Autobots and Decepticons have weaknesses. And I began to see the Decepticons as having a better way than the Autobots."

She paused, grabbing one of her throwing stars and began to sharpen its edge as she continued speaking. "Things have been… easier ever since I've joined the Decepticons. No political struggles, no protecting the weak and helpless, it's just survival of the fittest and looking after your own armor plating. And you only work with others when it serves a purpose." She cast Oil Slick a small, affectionate glance. "Or when you find someone who's actually worth caring for."

Satisfied that the star was sharp enough, she put it away and began to look through her knives and swords. "Ever since I lost Yoketron, I decided that I wanted to be the best ninja there was, and I realized I couldn't do that if I stayed with the Autobots. I had to be ruthless and cunning in ways that they would never approve of. And now, I feel nothing but disgust for the ninjas who stayed with the Autobots. They're nothing but narrow-minded cowards who bow to the two-faced ideals of weak-minded, hypocrite leaders."

Oil Slick was staring at her in astonishment. It wasn't often that she opened up so much or even spoke that much in one setting. "I did not know you felt so passionate about this," he finally said.

"I do, and that's why I want to get Prowl. He could have been a great Decepticon, but he chose to stay with the Autobots."

"So you've made it your own personal vendetta to kill him. But why is that so important?"

"I have already explained it to you."

"Nightbird, I know you better than that. I think there is still something you're not telling me."

"Fine." Nightbird selected a couple of her smaller knives and began to sharpen them as she talked. "Part of me… wants to prove something, to myself at least. That is why I need to go alone."

"Prove something?" Oil Slick raised an optic ridge. "Such as what?"

"You must tell this to no one." She glanced up from what she was doing to glare at him.

"Promise," Oil Slick said, raising a hand. "You know a few secrets about me, so I would feel honored knowing one of yours."

Nightbird turned her attention back to her sharpening, then continued speaking. "I still feel something for the Autobots, deep down," she said slowly. "The fact that they have not been defeated entirely yet shows they have some strength, at least. But there is another reason."

"Go on," Oil Slick gently pressed when she fell silent.

Nightbird stopped what she was doing, but did not look at him. She was staring straight ahead, at the wall. "I want to see what happens when I go up against one of Yoketron's greatest students, especially since he's grown so powerful," Nightbird said. "If I am killed in the process, it will show me that perhaps I did wrong in turning against the Autobots, and a lot of the things that Yoketron taught me. It will show me that I was wrong about the Autobots."

She stared down at her knives. "Or if I defeat him, I will know that the Autobots are truly a force that will be defeated one day by the Decepticons. And I will have Yoketron's helmet for my own use."

"Are you saying that you are doubting the decision you made so long ago, when you first joined the Decepticons?" Oil Slick asked. "And that you think facing Prowl in a death-duel in the only way to test this?"

"Perhaps." Nightbird resumed her sharpening. "Think about it, Oil Slick. We were both taught during our training to look at things—even life itself—on a deeper level than most bots would." She fell silent and gazed toward the ceiling, as though trying to figure out how to clarify herself further.

"Are you trying to say that you are testing fate?" Oil Slick asked her.

"In a way, perhaps," Nightbird replied. She turned to face him fully now. "It's difficult to explain, and I'm not sure if you can understand entirely. But I need to see for myself if my beliefs and my opinions are correct. I can't just cling to my opinions like sealing glue without testing them to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt, even to myself, that they are indeed true. If they are wrong, then I need to know that I was wrong. Anything less would be cheating myself, and cheating my very existence. That is what I believe, Oil Slick, and why I need to go off and do this. Do you understand, now?"

"I think I do," Oil Slick said thoughtfully. "In a way it's as though you want to go on something similar to an optics' quest, only it seems that you want to do more than find your inner spark. You want to test fate and have everything you've believed and put your faith into for a million stellar cycles either proven or disproved, once and for all."

Nightbird nodded, smiling a little behind her faceplate. She was pleased that he seemed to be understanding her. "Yes, and that's why I need to face Prowl personally. I believe in my spark that I will find out whether or not the choices I have made for my very existence have been wasted or not."

Oil Slick sighed softly and glanced down at the floor. "If this is something you feel you must do… I cannot stand in your way."

Her optics softened. "Thank you."

"But before you go to look for him, I must ask you something." A slight, amused smile crossed his features. "You must explain to me why you have never taken on a vehicle mode."

A thoughtful expression appeared in Nightbird's optics, and it was a full cycle before she answered. "The reason I have never chosen a vehicle mode for myself is because… all protoforms only have one form when they first come into existence. And since I was never given an alternate mode at an early age, I had the rare opportunity to choose whether or not I even wanted one. I chose to not have one."

"That still does not explain why you don't have one."

"It's because, especially after I began my ninja training under Yoketron, I decided that I simply did not want a vehicle mode. I felt that I should try and prove my worth with nothing more than my robot mode."

"I am still not sure if I understand."

Nightbird frowned slightly behind her faceplate. At times, it was difficult to find words for what you were trying to say, although she decided to try her best. "Well," she began slowly, "I suppose the best way I can explain it this: It has something to do with one of the first lessons Yoketron taught me, that it was the cyber ninja and not the weapon that mattered when it came to understanding combat, and even life itself."

"Go on."

"Very well, I will try. You see, the way I believe… I think that the only way for a bot to find her true worth and self-respect is to go through her existence in the form in which she came into existence—which is like this," she gestured at her robot body, "and without a vehicle mode."

"Even though it gives you a disadvantage?" Oil Slick asked. "And even though so many others, including myself, have vehicle modes?" He reached up to his shoulder and brushed one of the handlebars of his motorcycle mode indicatively.

"What others do is their own prerogative," Nightbird said. "I don't care what others do. But me… I make my own choices for my own existence. All I want to do is find out whether or not I am correct."

"And you plan to figure out whether or not you should have had a vehicle mode too, when you face Prowl?" Oil Slick asked.

Nightbird blinked, as though she hadn't really thought of that. "Perhaps," she said, then shrugged dismissively.

Suddenly, both of their commlinks chimed in unison. "Oil Slick, Nightbird, come to the control room immediately," came Strika's voice. "Someone from Megatron's current vessel has asked to speak with you both."

0o0o0o0o0

"You sure about this?" Jazz asked. He certainly knew that he wasn't sure about this.

Starscream had a plan, something he had cooked up after he'd finished briefing Jazz on everything he'd heard that Megatron was up to. At first Jazz had agreed, since it seemed like the only half-way decent plan they had. But now the white ninja was beginning to have second thoughts.

"Yes!" Starscream muttered. "So far so good—now just hush and let me do the work!" With that he turned and adjusted a setting on his weapon. "Just stay out of sight!"

0o0o0o0o0

Oil Slick and Nightbird entered the control room together. The only ones there were Strika and Blackout, who glanced up as the pair entered but said nothing. They simply went back to whatever they were doing.

"Ah, Shockwave," Oil Slick greeted the familiar face on the viewscreen. "You wanted to speak to us?"

"Indeed," Shockwave said, "I have an urgent message from Megatron."

Oil Slick and Nightbird exchanged glances. Neither of them knew Shockwave all that well, but there was something odd about his voice. It sounded almost… dull and emotionless.

"What is this message?" Nightbird asked.

"I have been ordered to tell you that Prowl has been sighted heading toward the coordinates I am now sending you," Shockwave said, and proceeded to work on a console, transmitting the coordinates. "You are both to proceed there and stop him."

"With all due respect, I would prefer to go alone," Nightbird said.

Shockwave seemed to hesitate momentarily, then he said, "You have your orders, you are to go together. Shockwave out." The screen went blank.

Nightbird and Oil Slick exchanged glances. Without a word, the femme turned and left the control room, leaving Oil Slick to follow her.

0o0o0o0o0

"Well done, Shockwave," Starscream cackled after the screen had gone blank. He stroked his weapon almost lovingly with the tip of his finger. "Beautiful little thing, isn't it?" he said, glancing over his shoulder at Jazz. "Not only does it control machines or shut them down, it can also hypnotize both Decepticons and Autobots!"

"Very impressive," Jazz said dryly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I believe it's my turn to use the communications' console."

Starscream made a "be my guest" gesture. He'd personally managed to shut down most of the security cameras to this room and bypassed the alarms that should have gone off during an un-authorized use of the communications terminal. And since Lugnut was busy doing grunt work for Megatron, and Megatron himself was still talking to Sentinel, that meant they were home free.

Jazz sat down at the communication terminal and inserted a disk containing the message to Optimus Magnus he needed to send. Basically it was a transmission that would explain everything—Sentinel's treachery, Jazz's own temporary alliance with Starscream, and the coordinates that he and Starscream would be heading too in order to rendezvous with Nightbird and Oil Slick.

Basically, Starscream and Jazz had determined that, if Megatron considered the Autobot ninjas the greatest threat to his power, he probably considered the Decepticons under his command who had ninja training some of his greatest assets—especially since he wanted Nightbird to lure Prowl to her and deal with him. So Jazz and Starscream decided that they would kill two birds with one stone—get rid of a couple of Megatron's best fighters, and warn Prowl at the same time.

"You did remember to tell Optimus in your message to pass on a message to Prowl to come to the arranged coordinates, correct?" Starscream asked.

"Yep," Jazz nodded. "And the message is sending now."

"Excellent," Starscream said. "Now as for you," he said, turning his attention to Shockwave, "I am going to make you forget everything that happened here." With that he made a couple of adjustments on his weapon and, within a couple of cycles, he'd managed to make Shockwave forget everything that he'd just done and said, and to even forget that he'd ever seen Jazz or Starscream at all. Then Starscream caused him to go unconscious, and left him in a heap on the floor.

By the time he was finished, Jazz was also finished sending the message. "Ready to go?" the white ninja asked.

"Yes I am," Starscream said. "Come with me."

They exited the control room and kept on going until they reached the nearest airlock. Once they had the outer airlock open, Starscream transformed into his jet-mode, which of course was able to endure space-travel. "Alright, Autobot, grab on," Starscream said. "And hang on tight."

Jazz hesitated momentarily, then slowly climbed into the back of Starscream's jet mode and grabbed onto the edges of his wings tightly. One thing was for certain; he didn't want to lose his grip while they were out in space.

"Ready?" Starscream asked.

"Ready," Jazz said, with a confidence he didn't quite feel.

"Then off we go!" Starscream's engine thrusters roared to life, and they took off into space, moving rapidly away from Omega Supreme.


	11. Chapter 11

"You are certain that Nightbird is going to be at those coordinates?" Prowl inquired.

"Yeah, that's what Jazz told me in his report, at least," Optimus said, leaning back in his chair. He was seated at his desk in his office, and he could feel another processor ache coming on. "Apparently he's teamed up with Starscream, and they used a cyber-hypnosis device to get Shockwave to fool Nightbird and Oil Slick into going to the coordinates I just sent you. They would like you to go there as well."

"Interesting," Prowl murmured. "So Nightbird has been attempting to lure me to her, and she's been using Dreamscreamer to do it."

"How do you figure?" Optimus asked.

"Let's just say I have been formulating a hypothesis," the dark ninja replied. "Something about Dreamscreamer's situation didn't make sense to me until you told me what Jazz found out. Her antics seemed very… planned, at least to some extent."

"So are you thinking about going to those coordinates?"

"Indeed I am."

"I'm not sure if this is such a good idea," Optimus murmured. "I don't like the idea of Jazz being with Starscream, and I especially don't like the idea of you going alone to face a couple of Decepticons."

"If I don't go to her now, Nightbird will try to get to me another time," Prowl said. "And perhaps with the aide of Jazz and Sari, at least, we will have the advantage of surprise on our side."

"Whoa wait a nano-click, Sari is going with you?"

"Yes she is."

"Well, she hasn't had much to do, and she's more than proven herself," Optimus commented with a sigh. "You planning to take anyone else with you?"

"Only Dreamscreamer. I am hoping to find Nightbird and determine a way to undo whatever she did to the young femme."

"Understood," Optimus said. "And you may go, but Prowl…" He sighed softly, leaning forward to peer into the screen, "Keep safe out there. We almost lost you during that last battle on Earth, and I'd hate to see anything happen to you."

Prowl nodded, smiling ever so slightly. "I will watch my back, as the humans would say."

"Then I wish you luck, Prowl." Optimus smiled and saluted the screen. "Magnus out."

Once the screen went blank, Optimus rose from his chair and headed toward the door. He needed to go speak with the council about the disturbing news he'd heard about Sentinel.

0o0o0o0o0

It wasn't long before Megatron learned that Jazz had escaped—he just didn't know how it happened. Lugnut didn't know anything, nor did Shockwave—although the latter bot did seem slightly dazed for some reason.

After doing a quick check around the ship, Megatron and his crew found that the jet twins were still securely locked up, but the white ninja was nowhere to be found.

Megatron knew that Sentinel could not have been responsible, because he had been talking to the Autobot Prime in his office the entire time. But just as the Decepticon leader entered the main control chamber, Shockwave glanced up and announced, "We are receiving a transmission from Team Char, my Lord."

"Onscreen," Megatron said, and turned to see none other than Strika on the screen.

"Lord Megatron, we have simply called to inform you that Nightbird and Oil Slick have departed for the coordinates that Shockwave sent us," Strika announced.

"What coordinates?" Megatron asked, glancing at Shockwave out of the corner of his optic.

"I have not sent any coordinates," Shockwave said. "At least not recently."

"Yes you did," Strika said testily. "You sent us a message just a couple of mega-cycles ago."

"Show me a copy of this message," Megatron ordered.

Strika nodded. "At once, Lord Megatron." After a moment, the image on the screen switched to that of the audio/visual message playing.

"Shockwave?" Megatron turned to glare questioningly at his minion.

"My Lord, I swear that I did not send that message," Shockwave said defensively. "Or if I did, I have no memory of it."

Frowning, Megatron turned to look at the screen again. "I think I am going to have to analyze this message more thoroughly," he finally said. "It would appear that something is not as it seems." He narrowed his optics. "And I intend to find out just what it is."

0o0o0o0o0

Prowl was traveling along the streets of Detroit with Sari sitting in his sidecar, and Dreamscreamer fastened to the back of his motorcycle mode. They were on their way to a small ship that Optimus had arranged for them to use.

"So I guess finding Nightbird isn't going to be a problem," Sari muttered. "She was using this to try to get to you and now Jazz and Starscream have arranged for us all to meet out in the middle of nowhere?" She shook her head. "Man, can this get any more… weird?"

"Sometimes, fate causes things to happen in strange ways," Prowl commented out loud in response. His processor wandered back to the time when he'd first became a part of Optimus Prime's crew, simply due to the fact that he'd been in the right place at the wrong time. Or was the right place at the right time? Those pretenses could sometimes be rather… confusing. Especially when dealing with Fate.

"Sure seems that way sometimes," Sari said with a shrug.

Their conversation then ceased, since Prowl did not reply and Sari couldn't think of anything else to say. And so the rest of the trip toward their ship continued in silence.

0o0o0o0o0

Nightbird had not spoken a word since she'd left the control room back at the base. Right now she and Oil Slick were inside a small ship, on their way to the coordinates that they had been told to go to.

Oil Slick knew that she wasn't too happy about this. She'd wanted to face Prowl alone, but she couldn't do that now. In some ways, he almost wondered if perhaps he should linger behind in the ship while she went out alone, and perhaps only go to her aide if she requested it. But at the same time, he did have his orders…

I will decide what to do when we arrive, he thought. His fingers tapped a few of the controls on the console in front of him, and he cast a sideways glance toward Nightbird. "Do you want to talk about it at all?" he asked her. Of course I've already asked that twice, he chided himself.

At first he thought Nightbird wasn't going to respond, but after a moment she surprised him by saying out loud, "This seems… awfully convenient."

Oil Slick looked at her fully. "What do you mean?" he asked her.

She turned to look at him, her optics filled with skepticism. "Think about it. We receive a message from Shockwave that Prowl headed to these coordinates, yet we hear nothing from Megatron himself."

"Megatron may have been preoccupied," Oil Slick suggested with a dismissive shrug.

"Possible," Nightbird acknowledged, "but usually we hear from him directly when it's important. And when it comes to things that concern the Autobot cyber ninjas, particularly Prowl, he always contacts us directly, in person. He doesn't have one of his underlings do it."

"Hmm," Oil Slick purred. He had to admit that she did have a good point.

"Furthermore," Nightbird went on, "I think that it is rather odd that Prowl would so conveniently go out to a location out in the middle of nowhere. And again, how would Megatron—or Shockwave—know that he is going there?"

"Well they do have the Autobot Sentinel working with them now, perhaps he got the information somehow."

"Could be. But there is something about this that doesn't seem quite right." Nightbird resumed staring straight ahead.

Just then, the communication terminal chimed. Oil Slick flicked a switch to receive the incoming transmission. "Oil Slick, Nightbird," came Strika's voice, "return to the base at once. We have reason to believe that the message you received may have been falsified."

"What do you mean?" Nightbird asked.

"Megatron just claimed he did not authorize the message, and Shockwave appeared to have no memory of sending it," Strika told her.

Oil Slick and Nightbird exchanged glances. "Understood… Nightbird out." She reached over and terminated the communication link before Oil Slick could do more than blink.

"Then I guess we are heading back," Oil Slick murmured.

"No, just a moment," Nightbird said with a frown.

Oil Slick frowned in return. "What?" he inquired.

Nightbird's vocalizer made a sighing sound. "If you want to go back, then we can go back long enough to drop you off back a the base," she said. "But… I am going on alone."

"But the message was falsified," Oil Slick said. "There is no point in going on."

But she wasn't looking at him; she was staring straight out the forward window. "Something in my spark tells me I need to go on, that this is right somehow," she said. "You can go back, or come with me, I don't care. But I am pressing on."

He looked at her for a long moment. What were her reasons for doing this? Even she had said a moment ago that there was something screwy about this entire situation, and her hunch had been proven correct. So why in the name of the Pit did she wish to go forward in spite of it all?

Every time I grow to understand something about her, she has to go and do something that shows me I may never understand her at all, Oil Slick thought.

Nightbird turned to look at him. "Well, what is it going to be?" she snipped impatiently. And by the tone of her voice he could tell that she wasn't about to change her mind. It was the same tone she used sometimes when he tried to press the issue of her getting a vehicle mode.

"I am still not sure if this is wise," Oil Slick said. He couldn't help it; he had to press his warning.

Nightbird growled impatiently. "I know you don't understand," she said slowly. "But the last time I recharged, I had something of a vision. At least I think it was a vision."

Now Oil Slick was intrigued. "Oh? What kind of vision?"

"I can't really say… because it was more of a feeling than anything else."

"Can you describe the feeling?"

"It was like a deep feeling in my spark, telling me that I would know where I would need to go to fulfill my spiritual quest, which I have already explained to you."

"So you believe, from a feeling in your spark, that this is the path you need to take? Do you think you truly will find Prowl?"

"Perhaps. I will not know unless I continue on this path."

Oil Slick glanced away from her, staring out through the forward window. Neither of them were looking at each other now, and they were both thinking very deeply.

"Then I will go with you," Oil Slick said, slowly turning to look at her again. "I will not get in the way of whatever you feel you need to do, I swear. But I do know that my path—the path of my choosing—is to be by your side, at least until the end of your journey."

Nightbird looked at him now. She knew exactly what he meant. Basically he was telling her that he would stay with her until the day she went offline, one way or another. She said nothing, but her optics held a silent gratitude.

"Let us go, then," she finally said.

And then, as if they hadn't received any word at all from Strika, they continued onward, on their current course.

"But if I request it," Nightbird said after a long silence, "please stay back, and out of my way."

Oil Slick merely nodded.

0o0o0o0o0

Upon examining the transmission several times, Megatron noticed something peculiar. In many ways, from what he knew of Shockwave, his loyal servant just didn't seem like himself in that message. So the Decepticon leader began to deduce that either Shockwave didn't send the message and someone had done an excellent job of faking his appearance and voice, or Shockwave had been under some sort of control.

Megatron knew his minions quite well, and in truth he didn't trust any of them entirely, ever since what Starscream had done. Although he knew enough about his most loyal minions to feel that some weren't potential backstabbers, some were simply incompetent in certain areas—except for their loyalty of course. Lugnut was a good example of this.

But there was something else that Megatron noticed about the message that caused him to realize there was something off about the entire thing. When he turned up the volume high enough, he detected faint voices in the background, as though someone was whispering off-screen.

It took some time modifying the audio to filter out the voices of Nightbird, Oil Slick, Strika and Shockwave, but Megatron soon managed to enhance and clarify the background voices. He couldn't do it enough to understand what was being said, but eventually he definitely recognized the unmistakable sound of Starscream's voice, and what sounded like Jazz's voice.

Megatron worked with the audio a bit longer, and with Shockwave's help it went even faster. The Decepticon leader now felt fairly confident that Shockwave was somehow completely unaware of what he had been doing when he'd sent the message, so Megatron felt he could trust him to assist with this.

"It definitely seems to be Starscream's voice, my Lord," Shockwave finally said after a few cycles. "As well as the cyber ninja we had captured. If I am able to make a fair guess, judging from the snippets of words my audios can decipher clearly, I would have to say that they are now working together."

"How ironic," Megatron commented thoughtfully. "The foolish, overbearing Autobot, Sentinel Prime, chooses to join with me. And the Decepticon traitor Starscream chooses to form an alliance with an Autobot." He glanced at Shockwave, then back at the screen where a portion of the transmission was frozen on Shockwave's face. "If this situation were not so serious, I might just laugh."

Shockwave made no comment. In fact, a small portion of his processor was actually thinking that he had never actually heard Megatron laugh.

"What are we going to do now, my liege?" Shockwave asked.

Megatron folded his arms across his chassis. "Contact Team Char," he ordered. "We are going to inform them that we are going to pick them up from their base, and then we are going to those coordinates."

"Very well, my Lord."

0o0o0o0o0o0

"How much longer do you estimate until we get there?" Jazz asked out loud. Frankly, if anyone had told him before he left Cybertron that he would end up not only allying himself with a Decepticon but riding on its back, he probably would have laughed in their face.

"At this pace? Long," Starscream replied. "Just be grateful that I fueled myself up to the point where I felt like I would burst before we left Omega Supreme. I still have plenty of energon to burn off, and I'm simply grateful that my stomach ache has worn off."

"But we will make it there in time to meet up with Prowl and the others?"

"Don't worry, I took into consideration the fact that I can't go as fast as a ship, or sustain myself for as long in space," Starscream answered. "The coordinates I chose will enable us to get there before anyone else, because we just happen to be closest. Now just shut up and leave the flying to me."

0o0o0o0o0o0

"So you're telling me that they have continued on, regardless of what you told them?" Shockwave asked.

Both he and Megatron stood side by side before the viewscreen, speaking directly with Team Char's leader, Strika. And Strika had just informed them that Nightbird and Oil Slick didn't seem to have any intention of returning to base.

"Allow them to go," Megatron ordered. "It could be useful to have someone present at that location until the rest of us can get there."

"As you wish, my liege," Strika replied.


	12. Chapter 12

Nightbird crouched behind a large boulder. Her training had taught her to watch and observe her surroundings and analyze the situation before making her move. And she was pretty damn good at it, too.

She was aware when Oil Slick quietly approached her from behind, his feet intentionally clacking against the rocks in order to alert her to his presence. "I just checked the ship," he said quietly. "We have received a message from Megatron."

She said nothing, although a very slight tip of her head told Oil Slick that she'd heard him.

"Apparently Megatron wishes us to pursue the course of action we are already on," Oil Slick continued. "So we are actually not disregarding his orders at all."

Now Nightbird glanced over at him. "Anything else?" she asked.

"Yes," Oil Slick said. "Megatron has picked up Team Char so that everyone is now aboard Omega Supreme. And now they are on their way out here."

Nightbird turned away, and Oil Slick thought he detected an almost inaudible hiss escape her vocalizer. He still knew how much she wanted to face Prowl alone.

They had arrived at their pre-destined coordinates exactly three hours ago, during which time they had been carefully scouting out the idea and keeping out of sight just in case they were being watched. However, there seemed to be nothing but themselves on this cold, lifeless, barren rock of a world.

This seemed to be a planet that had long ago wandered out of its sun's orbit, although it was fairly small all things considered, which lead Oil Slick to believe it may have actually been a moon once. There was nothing interesting to see here at all; it was simply a planetoid of endless, dark brown dust and rock.

"When will they arrive?" Nightbird asked.

"They are experiencing some technical difficulties," Oil Slick told her. "Megatron seems to think that Starscream sabotaged some of the systems to hinder the ship."

Nightbird said nothing, although Oil Slick knew her well enough to figure she probably wasn't surprised by the news. Frankly, everyone knew by now just how persistent the Decepticon traitor could be.

"It will probably be some time before they get here," Oil Slick said. "There may still be a chance you will be able to face Prowl before they get here…" He frowned. "If he is even coming here at all, that is."

"He will be here," Nightbird said with a firm confidence that surprised even herself. "I feel it in my spark."

0o0o0o0o0o0

"So when is that other cyber ninja going to get here?" Starscream demanded, for what seemed like the one hundredth time.

Jazz was leaning against a large boulder, staying out of sight. Somehow he had a unique talent for being able to look casual and relaxed, as well as alert and on the defense at the same time.

"Hopefully he will be here soon," the Autobot gave the same reply as every other time Starscream had asked that question. Frankly, especially after having worked with Sentinel prior to this, Jazz was more than used to being patient with obnoxious statements and outbursts.

"He'd better be," Starscream said, beginning to pace a little. "Or I—"

Jazz grabbed one of his wings and pulled him back. "Keep it down," Jazz told the Decepticon con. "And you'd better sit down and stop moving around. You don't want anyone to see us."

Starscream growled and yanked his wing free from the ninja's grasp. He seemed to be thinking about saying something, but instead he seemed to think better of it and sat down on the ground.

In truth, Starscream could be pretty patient when he wanted to or needed to. He just wasn't happy about having to sit there and be patient.

Just then, for the first time since they'd arrived, Starscream noticed something. "What is that?" he asked quietly, pointing at something off in the distance.

Jazz turned his head to look in the direction the 'con was pointing. "Looks like a garbage dump area," he commented. Indeed that was exactly what it looked like. And the white-mech ninja knew that sometimes Autobots—or even Decepticons, or neutrals—jumped their garbage out on remote, useless planetoids, such as this one.

"Perhaps we should… investigate," Starscream said off-handedly.

"What for?" Jazz asked.

"It beats just sitting around here doing nothing. And we might even find something useful over there."

"Something useful in the garbage?" Jazz said skeptically. "I doubt it—it's just a junk pile. Besides we should be keeping a look out."

"You keep a look out," Starscream said. "I'm bored and I want to take a look."

Jazz shrugged. "Suit yourself." He then resumed keeping his optics and sensors alert, while the Decepticon traitor carefully and cautiously moved toward the nearby junk pile—which was located inside a ditch.

0o0o0o0o0o0

"How long until we get there?" Sari asked quietly, kneeling over the still form of Dreamscreamer. She was keeping watch over the femme, while Prowl did the piloting. She was in the cockpit of the shuttle they'd been given, several feet behind where the ninja mech sat.

"It won't be much longer until we reach the nearest space bridge," Prowl replied, tapping his fingers over the controls of the shuttle. "After that, we should arrive at the coordinates within a few seconds."

He turned his head ever so slightly, so that the corner of his visor could peer a bit toward Sari and Dreamscreamer. "How is she?"

"Dunno," Sari shrugged. "She hasn't moved at all, and I can't… scan her anymore. I mean I can't tell what's wrong with her programming while she's offline."

Prowl turned his head fully back to the shuttle controls. "Then we will simply have to hope we can find Nightbird," he said.

Sari frowned, looking up at Prowl from where she sat. "You know, what if Nightbird doesn't do anything for her?" she asked.

Prowl was silent for a moment, then said, "Hopefully she will be… open to negotiation, at least."

"What does that mean?"

Prowl didn't reply.

Sari shrugged, turning her full attention back to the motionless form of Dreamscreamer. Sometimes Prowl got into these… deeply thoughtful moods, where you had to practically nag him to death just to get him to talk. Most of the time he was only like that when he wanted to be left alone in his room to meditate. But there were times, especially during long trips, when he got like that too.

She just wondered what was on his mind. What was he thinking?

0o0o0o0o0o0

Starscream found that the stuff within the junk pile was, for the most part, completely uninteresting. Mostly it was a lot of odds and ends that were too badly banged up, dented, or rusted to be of any use.

But then, something caught the Decepticon's optic. It was a crushed, blue cube that seemed to be made of Cybertronian metal. Although it wasn't exactly the cube itself that caught his attention, but a flicker of light within the cube…

Curious, Starscream carefully reached down and pulled the metal object out of the junk pile with minimal difficulty. As he examined it, he noticed that the light he'd observed looked like… a spark!

"Hmmm," Starscream purred thoughtfully as he continued to look it over. Obviously someone had suffered a rather brutal demise, somehow or other. Part of his processor vaguely recalled an Autobot who had been present down in the cavern where he and his clone army had taken on Megatron and the Autobots…

Could this be that same Autobot? Well, whoever it was, it was fairly obvious that the bot was still alive, although in deep stasis. If it was dead, the spark would be extinguished and the colors would have gone from blue to the dull gray color of death.

Carrying the scrunched cube carefully in his servos, Starscream headed back in the direction of Jazz.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Having arrived at the nearest space bridge, Prowl punched in the proper coordinates, and a few moments later, brought the shuttle into the large, glowing blue orb of light. Everything went blurry and bright for a few seconds, then the shuttle was deposited in the middle of nowhere, near a large, dead-looking planetoid.

"That must be it," Prowl commented quietly, as he proceeded to fly the shuttle as a slow and cautious pace toward it.

"So what's the plan?" Sari asked quietly, moving away from Dreamscreamer and walking up behind him. She placed a hand on the back of his seat as she peered out through the forward window, gazing at the dark planet ahead.

"To approach with extreme caution and then assess the situation, carefully," Prowl replied quietly, most of his attention focused on piloting and on the scanner readouts.

"Then what?" Sari persisted.

"Then we will be able to come up with a good plan… hopefully," Prowl commented after a short moment of silence.

"In other words, you don't know what to expect," Sari said.

"There isn't much information available," Prowl replied.

"No kidding."

0o0o0o0o0

Jazz's head snapped up when he saw Starscream walking toward him, carrying an odd, crushed blue cube. Although what really caught the ninja's attention was a specific, glowing brightness that could be spotted in a crack of the cube.

"Whoa," Jazz exclaimed as he moved toward Starscream, his visor flashing as he leaned in to get a better look. "You found that in the junk heap?"

"Yep, I did," Starscream smirked. "I guess looking in that pile of garbage wasn't such a waste after all." He patted the blue metal indicatively. "This fellow is alive… though probably just barely."

"Seems to be in deep stasis," Jazz remarked, reaching out for the cube. "Though I'm not sure if there's much we can do for the poor fella out here."

"Oh but maybe there is," Starscream said, reaching up to his forehead and snapping off a tiny fragment of the Allspark shard stuck in his head.

"What good will that do?" Jazz asked. "This guy's spark is still in his chassis… no matter how crushed it is."

"I'm thinking that the energy from this Allspark piece might be able to regenerate his body enough so it might… repair itself."

"Are you operating on all cylinders?" Jazz exclaimed. "No amount of energy could possibly repair his body, not when it's this crushed up."

Starscream laughed. "You underestimate the power of the Allspark!" he said. With that, he gently but firmly forced the piece of Allspark into a small crack of the blue cube's metal. Then, the entire cube began to glow…

0o0o0o0o0

"What is happening?" Oil Slick murmured quietly.

He and Nightbird had noticed the presence of the white-mech ninja and the Decepticon traitor, when the latter individual had gone toward the junk heap. Ever since then, they had been watching the pair from a discreet distance.

"It seems they found a companion in the junk pile," Nightbird whispered quietly. "And it looks like they've found a way to fix him up."

Oil Slick noticed she sounded mildly bored, even though her optics were filled with fascination as she watched the sight before her. He knew that the real thing she was interested in was facing Prowl, although both of them were also curious and interested in what the other bots were doing.

Besides, even though cyber ninjas were taught to be patience and had the ability to clear their minds—which gave them the ability to sit completely motionless and stay alert even if absolutely nothing was happening around them—they both had to admit, having something to watch was far more interesting than having nothing to watch.

And it wasn't every day that you got to see a crushed 'bot being restored to full health, right before their very optics…

0o0o0o0o0

Sentinel knew that he was in trouble, because things were about to get very complicated.

On the one hand, he was actually beginning to rethink things in general. Was he really doing the right thing, going along with the Decepticons? Yes he didn't exactly agree with the things that were going on back on Cybertron, but… was betraying everyone really such a good idea?

He wasn't entirely sure why he was rethinking things, although perhaps part of it was due to the fact that things just weren't going the way he'd thought they would. Megatron had been monitoring the visual/audio transmissions coming out from Cybertron, and it seemed that word had somehow gotten back to Optimus that Sentinel was a traitor.

It didn't take long to figure out just how this news had gotten to the new Magnus, once it was discovered that Jazz had escaped. On top of that, now that the news had gotten out, Megatron didn't seem to be holding him in quite so high regard anymore… it was almost as though the Decepticon leader was starting to view him as… less useful.

This made Sentinel angry. It seemed that once you stopped being "useful" to Megatron, he turned more of his attention to those who he considered more useful. Sentinel did not like being disregarded like that.

And so, it seemed that both the Autobots and the Decepticons had disregarded him in some ways. First the Autobots had completely ignored his years of devotion and service, and put that Academy washout in charge of all of Cybertron simply because he won a few battles and came home with the Magnus hammer. Then when Sentinel tried joining the Decepticons, hoping to help make things right again… it seemed that Megatron could actually care less about him.

Nothing was going the way it was supposed to. And Sentinel wasn't quite sure what to do anymore. Yet somehow, he found himself heading down the hallway, making certain not to be seen as he headed toward the cells.

When he came across the cell where Jetfire and Jetstorm were being held, Sentinel held a finger to his mouth. "Shh, keep quiet," he told them both. "I'm busting you both out of there."

0o0o0o0o0

Jazz watched in complete astonishment as the blue form seemed to partially dissolve into pure energy, and then metal began to straighten out and reshape itself back into its original form. It was almost like seeing a piece of crumbled paper unfold itself and go back into its original condition, all of the cracks, creases and tears completely vanishing as well.

When all was finished, Agent Blurr looked as though he'd never been damaged. For a few moments he simply lay there on the ground, flat on his back, his optics offline. Then his optics came to life, blinking on and off a few times.

Then, quite suddenly, he leaped to his feet, looking rather confused and spooked. He then glanced from Jazz, to Starscream… and then gasped. He then began to talk so fast that neither of the other bots could understand a word he was saying.

"Whoa, hey!" Jazz exclaimed, holding up his hands. "Calm down! Everything is cool, pretty much."

Blurr stopped talking, his mouth closing as he took in this new information. "?" He blurted. Then, in record time, he blurted out everything that had happened right up to when he'd gotten crushed into a cube.

In some ways Jazz was astonished. He knew of Blurr, and had met the 'bot a few times prior to this, but still he'd never heard anyone be able to recap so much information in such a short amount of time. Starscream was trying to keep up with everything being said, a look of annoyance crossing his features.

"Take it easy now," Jazz said again. "Don't worry, everyone knows about Longarm being Shockwave." He cast a glance toward Starscream. "And you don't need to worry about my 'con companion here, either."

Blurr tensed, starting to look suspicious and uncomfortable. Jazz couldn't blame him, though; the last thing the blue bot remembered, he had been attacked and scrunched by his own boss. Now the first thing he saw upon being returned to normal was an Autobot comrade standing next to a Decepticon, and neither of them were slagging each other.

"Let's just say quite a lot has happened since you're… unfortunate scene," Jazz said. "I think it would be best if I filled you in…"


	13. Chapter 13

Prowl moved silently across the rough ground, his feet barely making a sound as he walked. He carried Dreamscreamer's limp form in his arms, having made certain her head was resting against his shoulder so that it would hang down her hurt her neck at all.

Sari followed quietly at a safe distance behind, although she kept up with Prowl at a steady pace. The black mech had cautioned her not to follow too closely in case they came upon Nightbird suddenly, for she was a bot who was not to be underestimated.

In some ways, Prowl silently wondered if he should have left Sari back at the shuttle, but he knew that she probably would have argued with him if he'd tried that. About the only reason he could think of to give her in order to get her to stay was if, perhaps, he'd decided to tell her to keep an eye on Dreamscreamer. But the fact was, he needed to take the unconscious femme with him, in the hopes that Nightbird would be able to undo whatever she'd done. And since Sari was sick of feeling useless like she had been back on Cybertron… there really wasn't much he could do or say.

Besides, he'd chosen to take her along, because he was fairly confident in her abilities. If he as seriously going to leave her behind at the shuttle, he shouldn't have allowed her to come along at all, then. And so, he permitted her to come, just so long as she stayed at a safe distance behind him.

He was worried for Dreamscreamer too, but it was just that Sari was so much smaller, despite her powers and abilities. Prowl was always protective of his comrades, and the fact that Sari was so small—and a femme, at that—it made him even more watchful of her in some ways. Especially since there was a "fallen" ninja around somewhere.

"Prowl?" Sari asked after they'd been walking for some time. In spite of Prowl's warning, she quickened her pace to run up just behind him, so that she could speak to him more easily.

"Yes?" he said without really looking at her. He was trying to keep an eye on his surroundings, looking for any sign of Nightbird or any Decepticons in general.

"Are you sure we're going the right way?" Sari asked, looking around briefly and then looking back at Prowl. "I mean, I know you looked at the shuttle's sensors before we left, but—"

"We will proceed this way for a while," Prowl cut her off. "Somehow… I feel in my spark that we are going the right way."

"Well… I sure hope so," Sari muttered.

"Sari, fall back," Prowl instructed the girl. "I don't want you too close to me, just in case—"

"Yeah, yeah, just in case Nightbird decides to take us by surprise and pounce, I know," Sari said in annoyance. "But you know, I don't think it makes much distance. She might not even notice me if I'm right behind you, since I'm not as big as you are."

Prowl inclined his head slightly. "True, but I still don't want you in harms way."

"Hey, I was there during the battle with those Lugnut clones on Earth," Sari said. "I didn't even get a scratch on me!"

"Again, true, but this is a different situation."

"How so?"

Prowl sighed. "We are not dealing with opponents that are out in the open, we are dealing with stealthy opponents. Nightbird will not allow us to see her until and unless she wishes to be seen."

"Then how do you know we haven't walked by her already?"

"I have not sensed anyone following us," Prowl told her. "Although," he added with a frown, "I am… unsure of the extent of her stealth abilities."

Sari found herself glancing behind her, feeling a bit nervous in spite of herself. "You mean she could be tailing us, and we might not even know it?" she asked.

"It's possible."

"Oh wonderful," Sari muttered. Suddenly she felt a slight chill run up and down her spine, and she found herself walking more closely to Prowl, just in case. She was very confident in her own abilities, but just being close to the ninja gave her more reassurance.

0o0o0o0o0

Jazz, Starscream and Blurr had spotted the arrival of what was presumably Prowl's shuttle, just as Jazz had finished filling in Blurr on the situation at hand. Then, they had been just about to go toward the shuttle, and Oil Slick and Nightbird came out of nowhere and attacked.

And although Blurr was the fastest, he was still a bit stiff and dazed from his ordeal, not having fully recovered yet. He was the first one to go down, and he had a pair of stasis cuffs slapped onto his wrists—which Nightbird had had cleverly concealed on her person.

After that, Oil Slick whipped out a canister of cosmic rust and threw it at Starscream and Jazz. Both of them tried to move out of the way, but it was too late. The chemical fumes touched the armor plating of their feet, and began to spread up their legs, then their torsos and arms, and then their faces and helmets.

"NOOOO!" Starscream yelled as his torso and neck finished turning a sickly brown color, and then after his face finished turning brown with rust, he fell backward on the ground, just at the same time as Jazz collapsed.

"That takes care of them," Oil Slick murmured, a look of satisfaction on his features.

Nightbird, who was still standing beside Blurr, peered at Oil Slick curiously. However, Blurr was sputtering something or other out loud although she was not paying any attention to what he was saying. She simply jammed a foot into his chassis, causing him to emit a pained yelp. "Be silent," she hissed at him quietly. The blue mech scowled, then fell silent.

"Too bad stasis cuffs don't prevent the vocalizer from being used," she murmured. "Though I do happen to have a mouth clamp." With that, she slammed it onto his mouth. He moaned, but was now unable to speak.

"So," Nightbird said, placing her hands on her hips as she approached Oil Slick, "did you kill them?" She inclined her head toward Starscream and Jazz.

"No, they're not dead," Oil Slick answered her. "I did not use a fatal potion of cosmic rust, I simply used a variation of chemicals that caused their outer platings to rust up. They are currently immobile, and in pain, but quite alive I assure you." He cocked his head to one side. "I figured Megatron may want to question them."

"I take it you have a cure for that stuff, then?" Nightbird queried, raising an optic ridge.

"Yes, I have some on me," Oil Slick said.

"Might be a useful bargaining tool as well," Nightbird said. "If things should go awry."

"Perhaps."

0o0o0o0o0o

Sentinel, having released the jet twins from the holding cell, lead the two brothers down the hallway. Both of them seemed surprised and confused, but they followed him.

"Sentinel Prime, sir," Jetfire said, "what is going on?"

"We thought that you were with the Decepticons now!" Jetstorm said.

Sentinel growled. "What ever gave you that idea?" he said, then turned around to face them fully. "So long as this symbol is on my chest, I am still an Autobot, UNDERSTOOD?" he barked.

Their optics widening, the two brothers straightened and saluted. Then they said in unison, "Sir yes sir!"

"Good," Sentinel said, turning away from them. In truth, he wasn't sure what he was going to do now, not he'd wanted to clear up any potential problem there might be with the twins questioning him. "I was just… hoping to get some information on the 'cons, that's all," he said slowly. "And if we can get back to Cybertron with a 'con or two in tow… that will work out quite nicely."

"So what is the plan?" Jetstorm asked.

"Just follow me," Sentinel said. Alright, so from here on out… he was winging it. But one thing was for sure: he wasn't about to go calling on Optimus for help to bail him out this time around. This time, he was doing things on his own.

And then he would get the glory for it… somehow or other.

0o0o0o0o0o

Oil Slick had remained behind, at Nightbird's request, to keep an optic on the three Autobot captives, and to await the arrival of Megatron and Team Char.

Nightbird headed toward the shuttle herself, alone, to seek out Prowl. She could somehow feel it within the very core of her spark that Prowl was indeed here, and that she would face him soon.

She moved with a quiet grace, her footsteps making no noise whatsoever on the rough, rocky ground as she moved. Her spark pulsed with a quiet excitement in her chassis as she went, knowing that pretty soon, all of her most important questions would be answered. At least she dearly hoped so.

It wasn't too long before she reached the shuttle, and she was not surprised to find it deserted. She smiled—the occupants had no doubt fallen for her trap. She'd planted fake Decepticon energy signals off in the distance, and had used an energy dampener to hide hers and Oil Slick's. So Prowl was on a wild crank chase right now, but he was going exactly where she wanted him.

Wasting no time, she took off in the direction of the fake energy signals.


	14. Chapter 14

Prowl was really starting to get an uneasy feeling deep within his spark. And by the way Sari kept walking very close to him, he sensed that she was feeling uneasy as well. And it wasn't anything he could put his servo on. But what could he do besides press onward, especially if he was going to help Dreamscreamer?

"Prowl," Sari said, almost timidly, "I kinda wonder if we should go back."

The ninja bot paused in his stride and glanced down at her. She was standing just behind his left leg, almost touching him but not quite. Since this world had no breathable air she had her helmet and faceplate up, which allowed more of her robotic side to take over, thus allowing her systems to be more sustained by energon than oxygen. But despite the fact that he couldn't see her face, he could definitely sense her uneasiness.

Perhaps I should have left her back at the shuttle after all, Prowl thought distractedly. Or maybe it might have been better to leave her back on Cybertron. However, thinking about what might have been best was useless right now. All they could do was deal with the present, for all of his decisions and choices had lead both of them to where they were now.

"We can't go back," Prowl said. "At least I cannot. I have to see if I can help Dreamscreamer. But… if you wish to go back, you may." As soon as the words left his vocalizer, part of him realized that might be a bad idea too. If Sari went off by herself, she might become an easier target.

Of course he wasn't sure how much safer she was even when she was with him, since he just didn't know what to expect from Nightbird. What lay in store for them? How much backup did she have? Only time would tell.

"No," Sari said, a bit forcefully. "I'm staying with you." She hadn't realized that she had moved even closer to Prowl, especially when he'd suggested that she go back. Not only had she moved closer, but she'd placed an arm on his leg. Her eyes widened slightly when she realized she was touching him and she quickly pulled back, casting her eyes at the ground sheepishly.

Prowl was aware that she'd been touching him, and quickly brushed it off as simply her being nervous. He couldn't blame her, after all. He had had years and years of training to ward of fear and to find peace and serenity within his processor, but she was still very young. And half human, on top of that.

"Then we'll keep going," he finally said, and began to resume their pace. "We just need to be cautious."

0o0o0o0o0o0

Sentinel had managed to convince the Jet brothers that everything he'd done, he had done it because he was trying to get in close to the 'cons and figure out what they were up to. In fact, he kept telling them the same thing and insisting upon it so much that he'd not only convinced them, but himself as well.

If there was on talent that Sentinel had, it was the ability to convince himself that he was always doing the right thing. Even to the point where he could deny any previous actions or decisions he'd made, thus believing he hadn't really meant it at all. So right now, in his processor, he thoroughly believed that he had never agreed to go along with Megatron at all. In fact, he even lead himself to believe that he and the Jet brothers were prisoners, and they needed to get out of there, stat.

On top of that, he'd lead himself to believe that Jazz was fortunate to have escaped, but was terribly misinformed and had told Optimus that Sentinel was a Decepticon traitor. Sentinel thus knew that Jazz meant well, but didn't know the real truth; something which Sentinel would have to correct when he got back to Cybertron.

If he could figure out how to get back there…

"So what is the plan, Sentinel Prime Sir?" Jetfire asked.

The three of them were currently hiding in the cargo area, crouching close to each other. Sentinel knew it wouldn't be too much longer until Megatron, or one of the other 'cons, figured out that he was missing and that the Jet twins were free. So they had to figure out what to do and act fast.

"Uh, right," Sentinel said, and cleared his throat. "I think that somehow or other, we need to retake control of Omega Supreme."

The twins exchanged glances, then looked back at their boss. "Tis a clever plan!" Jetfire said.

"Yes it is clever!" Jetstorm agreed heartily. But then he added, "But how exactly are we going to retake this ship?"

Sentinel gritted his dental plating. I have no idea, he thought. But he wasn't about to say that to them. "Uh, give me a cycle—I'm still trying to perfect my… brilliant, flawless plan." And maybe that will give me some time to come up with a brilliant, flawless plan, he thought, turning his face away so that his bots couldn't see him frown.

"Okie-for-dokie!" the jet brothers said in unison, a bit too enthusiastically. They looked at their leader with big smiles plastered on their faces, eagerly awaiting to hear Sentinel's big, brilliant plan as soon as he was ready to tell them.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Oil Slick was slightly bored. Whenever he was with Nightbird, time seemed to pass more quickly than not. About the only excitement he'd gotten was putting some of his rust chemicals on Blurr and watching as the terrible brown color spread up his blue frame. That had given the Decepticon ninja a moment of entertainment, plus he knew that it would lessen the chance of Blurr escaping. But now, he had nothing else to do.

He then decided that there really wasn't any reason to stay in this spot any longer. Jazz, Starscream and Blurr were now completely immobilized, and they weren't going anywhere anytime soon.

Still he remembered his promise to Nightbird, in saying that he would not interfere in any way when it came to her confrontation with Prowl. So perhaps in some ways, he was doing her a big favor—not to mention keeping his promise—by staying here. If Megatron and the others arrived, he would be able to head them off and hopefully stall them.

Plus he did have one of the ninjas Megatron wanted, right here with him. A sly smile crossed his features as he looked down at Jazz. He felt that the Decepticon ruler was correct to fear the Autobot ninjas because they had a special kind of training, and it was said that the Allspark favored those who valued peace more than selfish aggression.

Oil Slick briefly thought of Lockdown, who could be considered his brother. They'd been made in the same protoform mode, (not to mention they'd both been Autobots once) it was just that Lockdown had had so many upgrades and modifications over the years that his bulk head increased. In many ways the two of them had much in common, having mastered many of the ninja fighting stances. Although they were very different in two ways—Oil Slick was a master of chemistry and using his intelligence, and enjoyed using fear as a weapon to get things done. Lockdown used his strength, stealth and fighting talents, along with his obsession for trophies to get things done.

Another key difference was that Oil Slick had mastered processor over matter, at least to some extent. In truth, he had learned the basics of the fighting stances and meditation from none other than Prowl, a few thousand stellar-cycles after Master Yoketron had perished.

Oil Slick and Prowl had trained together for years, with Prowl believing that he could use this as a chance to further his own abilities and to give another the benefit of training as well. Oil Slick simply wanted to learn the fighting stances, and the discipline of focus. Being able to clear his processor and focus on a single task at will definitely gave Oil Slick many benefits in his current line of work. He very rarely made any mistakes when it came to his calculations and experiments.

The Decepticon frowned as another thought entered his processor. At times, it almost seemed as though something… bigger was happening, or was about to happen. Perhaps all of Nightbird's talk about wanting to test her beliefs and to test fate were clouding his processor, but somehow… he felt, deep within his spark, that there was more going on than met the optical sensor.

Not only that, but somehow a new feeling entered into his spark… one that sent a chill pulsing through him in spite of himself. Nightbird is going to go offline… permanently.

"No," he whispered out loud, instantly glancing off in the direction he'd last seen her go—the direction where Prowl's shuttle had landed. Part of him ached to go after her, if nothing else just to see if he could catch a glimpse of her, because he couldn't stand the thought he might never see her again.

Could it be true… that he had indeed seen her for the last time? That somehow, she was going to die?

Oil Slick gritted his dental plating, releasing a low growl. No matter what… he had to respect Nightbird's wishes, not to mention the promise he'd made her. That would be a good way to honor her, and… it would be his final gift to her.

He glanced down at his three prisoners again, and began to feel completely useless standing there. He really didn't care anymore what happened to them, so he turned and began to walk away, in the opposite direction from the way Nightbird had gone.

He wasn't sure where he was going. He just… needed some time alone. To think.

But he couldn't help but wonder… why had something told him that Nightbird was about to die? And WHAT had told him?

0o0o0o0o0o0o

Prowl suddenly stopped walking, glancing around and taking a step back—almost stepping on Sari's foot. She hastily stumbled backwards, looking up at him, startled. "Prowl, what is it?" she asked him.

Before Prowl could say a word, there was a shrill beeping noise and a flash of movement. The next thing he and Sari knew, they were being hefted into the air, high above the ground.

It only took Prowl a moment to realized what had happened; they'd stepped right into a trap, specifically an energy net. It had been rigged so that it was dormant on the ground until they walked onto it, then it captured them and hoisted them high above the ground, dangling from a rock formation like bundled up laundry.

And now that the energy web was activated, it would be impossible to cut their way out of it, because the energy protected it from being sliced or damaged in any way.

"Ugh—great!" Sari exclaimed in frustration, clutching at the net with her hands. "Now how are we going to get out of here?"

"I think we will know the answer to that question soon," Prowl said, still holding onto Dreamscreamer protectively. He pointed out through the netting. "Look."

Sari turned and saw a figure approaching. From what she could tell, the figure was a femme bot, having a mixture of gray and purple colors. She walked with the grace like that of a dancer—or more specifically, a skilled fighter, and her optics glowed above a faceplate that hid the rest of her features.

"Who is that?" Sari asked quietly.

Prowl's visor flashed slightly, and he replied simply, "Nightbird."

0o0o0o0o0o0

Sentinel had finally cooked up a brilliant plan… more or less. And he told it to the Jet brothers, who listened intently.

Once the Prime finished, Jetfire so, "So am I understanding correctly that you wish to throw a monkey wrench into the ship's main engines, to make them go permanently offline, then call Optimus Magnus?"

"Uh, yeah," Sentinel said in slight annoyance. He disliked it when they used some of the Earth jargon they'd picked up on. And hopefully Optimus will believe me when I tell him I was just trying to help capture the 'cons! He thought.

"So where are we going to get a 'monkey wrench'?" Jetstorm asked.

"Look, I will take care of everything in that department," Sentinel told the brothers. "I just need you two to cook up a diversion. Split up and use your powers to do anything you can to keep those Decepticons occupied. Just don't let yourselves get captured! I don't want to have to bust you out again and I'm counting on you to keep them away from me."

"Sir, yes Sir!" Both of the twins saluted in unison.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Meanwhile, back on Cybertron, Optimus Magnus still had his servos full. He still needed to speak with the Council about the latest happenings with the Decepticons, along with an update about what Prowl and Jazz—along with their companions—were up to, not to mention the prospect of Sentinel being a traitor.

But to top things off, there were still some issues going on with the Dinobots. They were still being kept in that building where they had been put to keep them out of trouble. Part of Optimus wished that Prowl was still on Cybertron, because he was the one person they responded to best. Well, other than BlackArachnia, but she only used them for her own selfish plans, and even if she was there, he doubted she would want to help out with keeping the Dinobots under control.

But at least Wreck Gar had made himself useful, and seemed to be enjoying his job very much. Unfortunately Scrapper had been thrown into the slammer for a few weeks, because he'd gotten a bit too much high-grade and did some damage to one of the public hangouts. But Optimus knew he wouldn't be in there forever, and maybe it would keep the Constructicon out of trouble, at least.

However, something then happened that Optimus had not anticipated, something that both shocked him and added to the pile of issues he already had to deal with.

The Magnus had been aware that a scouting party had gone to Earth to take care of several things. One was that they wanted to try and locate any remaining Allspark fragments with modified scanners that were able to detect them. Another thing was that they wanted to tear down the space bridge atop Sumdac Tower, so that no one could misuse it. And lastly, they wanted to try and locate any of the bots who were missing in action, if they could.

And thus, the scouting party returned with a fair amount of Allspark fragments—which were immediately taken to a secure location—and they had also found all of the 'bots who'd been reported missing.

The bots who were found included none other than Dirtboss, (who was just as bossy and short-tempered as ever) Mixmaster, Waspinator, Starscream's femme bot clone, and none other than BlackArachnia.

Since all of them had Decepticon symbols on them, they were all taken into custody, and thus they were another thing that Optimus had to help sort out when he got a chance. In some ways, he was truly beginning to wonder how in the world Ultra Magnus had done it. How could any bot try and handle so slagging much, when there just weren't enough mega-cycles in the day to take care of it all?


	15. Chapter 15

Nightbird's optics flashed slightly when she heard Prowl say her name. "Yes," she said aloud in her deep though feminine voice. She had a voice that could be mistaken for that of a mech, especially when she spoke in a monotone. However her appearance was unmistakably feminine. "It is me."

"Why have you done this?" Prowl demanded, indicating the current predicament that he and Sari—along with the unconscious Dreamscreamer—were in. "Why did you capture us, and why did you do this to Dreamscreamer?"

Nightbird moved closer until she was standing directly underneath the energy net, narrowing her optics as she took in the sight above her. Indeed, Prowl was holding Dreamscreamer rather protectively, and there was a smaller individual who looked like a midget femme in the net as well.

"I wanted to draw you here," Nightbird said quietly as she slowly walked around below the net, never taking her optics off Prowl as she moved. It was as though she were trying to analyze him and observe his appearance and his stance as much as she could, while he was still trapped within the net.

"For what purpose?" Prowl demanded.

Nightbird stopped, having walked in a full circle beneath the net. "I wish to fight you," she replied. "One on one, without any interference from anyone." She pointed. "Not even from that little pipsqueak in there."

"Hey!" Sari said in an indignant voice. "I—" But Prowl placed a hand over her, cutting her off. She growled and shoved Prowl's hand away, but then she simply folded her arms and fell silent, glaring at Nightbird through the energy net.

"Why do you want to fight me?" Prowl asked. "You still haven't explained why you drew us here."

"I wanted to face you specifically, Prowl," Nightbird replied. "Because out of all the ninjas I have seen and observed, you are the strongest and the best, especially now that you have mastered processor over matter and you have our late sensei's helmet." She folded her arms across her chassis. "And yet you are still on the Autobot side. I wish to see if, despite all my training and my choices and beliefs, if I can be bested by an Autobot."

Prowl frowned, not quite understanding. He also kept a gentle but firm hand on Sari's back, as sort of a request/warning for her to stay silent. Somehow he had a sense that this was between himself and Nightbird fully, and he didn't want her to get involved. She seemed to sense this too, as well as his wish for her to remain silent. She didn't seem too happy, but she kept quiet.

"I still don't understand," Prowl said slowly.

Nightbird frowned behind her faceplate, and thought for a moment. Did she really need to explain herself to him? Was it really so important that she make him understand her reasons behind her actions before they combated? No, she would probably have to waste a lot of precious time simply trying to explain herself, and even then he wouldn't understand. He might even try and talk her out of it. And if she spent a lot of time talking, that would give Megatron and the others more time to arrive—if she wanted to fight him, she would have to do so right now.

So she simply scowled and raised her right servo to aim her energy weapon at the net. "We will fight to the finish, here and now," she said. "And we will have no distractions, and no interruptions."

With that, she fired, and it was a direct hit. Prowl immediately realized her target, and yanked Sari upward in his hand, yet Nightbird anticipated this. She had switched her aim at the last split-second, and Sari screamed as a bolt of energy erupted through the net. She was techno-organic, and thus more susceptible to energy attacks, although her systems would be able to repair/regenerate.

"Sari!" Prowl exclaimed, and shifted himself so that Sari was held protectively in his arms. Then he turned and growled at Nightbird, his blue visor flashing.

"Yes," Nightbird practically purred. "Let your anger fuel your actions and your power!" And now I will have you to myself, without any outside interference, she thought.

With that she pressed a control on her waist, and the energy net shut down. Then, wasting no time, Prowl took out one of his golden stars and sliced through the netting with his free hand—the servo that wasn't holding Sari—then he hastily grabbed Dreamscreamer as he fell through the netting, preventing her from falling to the ground. He then landed gracefully on his feet, and crouched in a defensive stance.

Nightbird raised an optical ridge. Indeed he was a smooth one. He was angry, and he was also afraid for the safety of his comrades; this she could tell. But still he was in control. The swipes he'd taken at the netting had still been very precise, and very sure. And right now he was completely still, never taking his optics off her, and he looked ready for anything.

Nightbird took a couple of steps back, and spread her arms. "Leave them there," she said. She then gestured at herself. "Let us do this."

Prowl shook his head, although he did gently set Dreamscreamer down on the ground, and placed Sari down next to her. Then he turned his full attention back to Nightbird. "No," he said. "I don't want to fight you. We can—"

Prowl only had enough time to gasp as the blur that was Nightbird suddenly shot toward him, her foot catching him in the chest and knocking him flat against the ground. She then jumped off of him in the very next instant, flipped head over heels and twisted to land just behind him, ready to deliver a blow to his head.

However Prowl was faster, grabbing her foot and giving her leg a twist. She staggered but sent her fist flying, connecting it firmly with his face. Prowl yelped when he heard a sickening crack, and realized that his visor had just been smashed up.

This was confirmed when his blue visor fell from his face, landing on the ground at his feet with a quiet clatter. Nightbird yanked herself away from him and flipped backward, landing in a crouch several feet away—although her optics quickly locked onto his face, then she glanced down at the visor, and back at his face again.

Neither of them moved. Prowl, keeping his optics on Nightbird, slowly reached down and picked up his visor. It was nearly cracked in two, plus it was dented and had cracks all through it. Determining it as useless, he chose to discard it, tossing it aside.

Nightbird's optics remained locked on his face, and she seemed to be looking at him with thoughtful calculation, and perhaps a bit of shock.

Prowl's optics, beneath his visor, were apparently red. As red as a Decepticon's optics.

0o0o0o0o0

Oil Slick had walked some distance away before stopping and leaning against a large boulder, trying to think. He was debating something in his processor, whether he should just leave everything be, or actually try to do something.

However, one piece of logic finally won out. If something had indeed told him that Nightbird was going to die—maybe even fate itself—then he already knew the answer for Nightbird. And he could simply tell her.

Even if she never forgive him for interfering, even if she did not believe him… he felt this was the right thing to do. He had to go and help her.

So he turned and, transforming into his vehicle mode, he sped off across the planet's surface, eager to help his friend before she got herself killed.

0o0o0o0o0

Sentinel's brilliant plan had only one flaw, but it was the biggest mistake he could have possibly made. He had completely underestimated Megatron and the other Decepticons, although perhaps he shouldn't have, especially considering there were so many of them onboard. There were Megatron, Shockwave and Lugnut, plus all of Team Char onboard.

It wasn't long before Jetfire and Jetstorm were recaptured and put back into the brig, despite their best efforts.

Nevertheless, Sentinel tried to continue with his objective. If nothing else, perhaps he could do one final thing for the Autobots, as a way to make up for what he'd done. Only problem was that he was still trying to figure out a way to sabotage the engines. A task which wasn't going very well.

Then finally, he made one fatal mistake. As he was approaching the engine room, he did not notice the Decepticon Shockwave coming up behind him.

Without hesitation, Shockwave fired at Sentinel, hitting him square in the back.

Sentinel let out a pained yelp as he flew forward, his face smashing into the wall as he slid down to the floor. Then Shockwave fired again, and again, making certain he was too damaged to get up.

"Ah," Shockwave said as he approached, holding his weapon up high, "if it isn't Sentinel, my dear old mentor who taught me back in the Academy." Shockwave chuckled slightly. "It seems we do have something in common in some ways, although it doesn't matter. Megatron has ordered for your immediate termination, since you've proven yourself to be untrustworthy."

Sentinel tried to speak, but he found that his vocalizer was damaged, so he couldn't get a word out. He struggled to move, but a heavy foot that belonged to Shockwave pinned him down. The blue Autobot then heard the whine of an energy weapon charging, and he knew that Shockwave was about to fire.

Sentinel Prime was about to die. And he knew it.

Time seemed to slow down for him as he lay there, helpless and immobile. He couldn't even speak, and he could barely move a servo. He felt his body fluids leaking out onto the floor, and he knew that he'd already received heavy damage to his body. And he could not even speak. He couldn't even try to barter for his life at all.

As the whine of the energy weapon reached an even higher pitch, Sentinel had only one last thought, as images of Optimus, Elita 1 (and her mutated self, BlackArachnia), Ultra Magnus, Megatron, flashes of bots he'd worked with, and trained—and his last thought was:

What… a pathetic waste…

Energy erupted from the mouth of Shockwave's weapon, although he was heard and then felt, not seen. Sentinel felt pain erupt through his circuitry, then his optics and life force faded. His spark dimmed within his chassis, then winked out completely.

0o0o0o0o0

"What are you…?" Nightbird exclaimed, trying to recover from her shock. "Are you a Decepticon?"

"No," Prowl said, perhaps a bit too quickly and a bit too firmly. Frankly, that was none of her business, and he hadn't intended to let her or anyone else even see his real optics. And he certainly didn't feel like explaining himself to her.

Was it really any of her business, that he had actually been a Decepticon protoform that had an Autobot spark placed within? In truth, his protoform had been part of a new assembly line of Decepticons, all of which had been taken by the Autobots during a raid. And thus, each of those protoforms—including Prowl—had each been given a blue visor to cover up their natural, red optics.

Prowl was no Decepticon, and his spark was not that of a Decepticon. But his optics behind his visor always served as a reminder of his true builders.

"But," Nightbird stammered, "your optics—"

"It is none of your concern," Prowl snipped.

Nightbird seemed taken aback. "But I need to know," she finally said.

"Why?"

Growling slightly, Nightbird blurted, "Because it's very important for me to know. In fact it has to do with the reason why I'm fighting you."

Prowl narrowed his fiery read optics. It was actually a somewhat intimidating sight, although Nightbird did not flinch or take her optics off of him.

"If you tell me about why you are doing this," he said slowly, "perhaps I will explain why I have red optics." He didn't really want to, but seeing as she had already seen them, there wouldn't be any harm in telling her. Besides, he wanted to know the reason why she was fighting him.

Nightbird sighed, then decided that if she wanted to know, she would have to comply. And so she began to talk, telling him everything that she'd explained to Oil Slick prior to coming to this planetoid.

0o0o0o0o0

Oil Slick had to home in on Prowl's energy signature, since both himself and Nightbird were using energy dampeners. But as soon as he was within several hundred feet of Prowl's whereabouts, he transformed and went the rest of the distance on foot.

However, he was mildly surprised to see Prowl and Nightbird talking instead of fighting… although something else took him completely off-guard as well. Prowl's optics were red, like a Decepticon's!

Curious and completely baffled, Oil Slick ducked behind the rock formation, not having been spotted. He proceeded to watch… and listen, silently

0o0o0o0o0o

Nightbird finished telling Prowl everything that she'd told Oil Slick, and Prowl was silent for a long moment. He was simply absorbing everything he'd been told. And he remained silent until Nightbird grew impatient and prompted him for an answer.

And thus, Prowl told her the truth. He told her that his protoform had been meant to be a small Decepticon design, possibly even intended to infiltrate the Autobots or serve as a spy, but he'd been taken by the Autobots and had had an Autobot spark placed into him. He never knew his creators, or the parents of his spark, though.

"So you are truly Autobot then," Nightbird said, stroking her chin thoughtfully. And yet he was still partially Decepticon in some ways. However, his allegiance was to the Autobots, and that was why she was out here right now. To test herself against someone who'd stayed with the Autobots.

"Let us finish this," she said firmly, before Prowl could say anything.

However, before she could make a move, she heard someone call out her name, "Nightbird!"

Both Prowl's and Nightbird's heads turned in unison, to see Oil Slick come out from behind the boulder.

"I told you to stay away, and not to interfere!" Nightbird snapped, her optics blazing with anger.

"I know, but I have a good reason to intervene," Oil Slick said, holding up his hands as he moved forward. He cast a wary glance toward Prowl, although part of him seemed nervous about Nightbird hitting him or something as well.

"Nightbird, I don't know what it was," Oil Slick said slowly, "but it's like… I received a thought or a deep sense within my spark, that… you will die in this fight."

Nightbird blinked, then narrowed her optics. "Why are you telling me this?" she asked in a barely audible voice.

"Because, now that I know this, you know have to fight him, because now we both know you will lose," Oil Slick stated, hoping she would understand.

A silence fell between them, and only the faint noises of their circuitry operating and their internal hardware humming could be heard. Nightbird glanced at Prowl, she glanced at Dreamscreamer, then at Oil Slick, back at Prowl, then glanced down at the ground. She seemed to be lost in thought.

In truth she felt a bit cheated, perhaps. If she was going to die, she would have simply allowed her fate to go ahead and take its course. Then again, perhaps fate had different ideas. Why did something tell Oil Slick this, though? When she looked at his face, into his optics, she could see no falsehood, only honesty. And she knew how to read Oil Slick better than she knew how to read anyone else.

So this made her feel cheated in another way. Apparently fate, or something, had chosen to tell him this, and it had caused him to intervene and tell her, thus preventing it from happening. Whatever it was though, why couldn't it have told her directly?

"I am confused," Nightbird finally said, in spite of herself. She hated the fact that she'd actually said that aloud, but the words were already out. There was nothing she could do about it, now.

"I think… we should talk," Prowl stated simply.


	16. Chapter 16

Optimus Magnus took his seat within the council room. Over the course of the past few months, he felt that he had indeed gotten used too many things, including the wings on his back as well as the fact that he now had the Magnus hammer. Not only that, but the hammer seemed to have accepted him pretty well, and it felt like an extension of his own arm nowadays.

But the one thing Optimus still could not get used to was just how busy he was nowadays. When he was at the Academy, he'd spent a lot of time studying and training, and then when he was in charge of a space bridge repair crew, that had been extensive work but sometimes more boring than anything else. He'd gotten his first doses of adventure and excitement on that fateful day when he and his crew wound up on Earth, and it seemed like it was just one thing after another since then.

He firmly believed that the Allspark had chosen to use his time on Earth to prepare him for being Magnus. It was said that the Allspark existed both physically and spiritually, and now that its physical identity was shattered, it only existed spiritually, except for the small shards and fragments, of course.

Still, at times he was so stressed and taxed with all of the different issues at his attention, he wondered if he was really cut out for this.

Better than Sentinel being here, he thought, and gave the handle on the Magnus hammer a gentle, protective squeeze at the thought. The mere thought of that traitor still out there with Megatron made Optimus very angry. He couldn't help but wonder if, perhaps, he'd made a mistake in helping Sentinel so much, and in keeping his mouth shut for so long.

But that was irrelevant right now; they could only focus on the present and determine the next course of action.

Not only that but they had to decide what to do about the Decepticons they had just captured and brought in.

"I think the best thing to do would be send reinforcements to Prowl's location," Optimus stated, addressing all of the Council members at once. "He's a good bot and he can handle himself, and we all know from Jazz's report that Megatron apparently feels threatened by the ninjas. We believe that Megatron himself may be on his way to Prowl's whereabouts right now—a remote planet some distance from here. We could use one of the transwarp gates to send a team to his location."

"We should be able to spare some soldiers," Alpha Trion said with a nod. "And they should be instructed to keep an optic out for the Autobots who have presumably been captured."

Optimus knew he was referring to Jetfire and Jetstorm. He nodded. "Hopefully they are still online," he commented. "And I think we should get a team together and send them out there at once."

No one on the council disagreed.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

A silence had fallen between Prowl, Oil Slick and Nightbird. It seemed that none of them knew quite what to say, and none of them moved.

Finally, Prowl broke the silence. "Nightbird, can you undo what you did to Dreamscreamer?"

Nightbird blinked, as though snapping out of a trance. "Not… easily," she finally said.

Prowl frowned. "What do you mean?" He cast a glance behind him, at where both Dreamscreamer and Sari still lay on the ground, unconscious and immobile. He was, however, confident that Sari would awaken in due time, since she was only suffering from a temporary shock/overload. Dreamscreamer, however, was another matter altogether.

Nightbird seemed reluctant to respond, and with her faceplate still in place her expression was almost complete unreadable, except for her optics. And she wasn't quite looking at anyone.

What was she thinking? Prowl wondered to himself as his frown deepened. Was she feeling any regret or remorse for what she'd done, or was she hesitating for another reason?

As if reading his mind, Nightbird shook her head ever so slightly. "I have no regrets about anything I've had to do to get to where I am now," she said slowly. "I must come by my answers in my own way, even if it means sacrificing an innocent life in the process."

She turned and looked toward Dreamscreamer thoughtfully. "At this point the virus has most likely reached the terminal stages," she said. "Physically Dreamscreamer is fine, but she will never recover mentally. The only thing that can be done for her is to completely wipe her memory core, including the backup hard drive, then re-educate her." Nightbird cocked her head. "She's still a very young femme; it shouldn't be too difficult for her."

Prowl's optics narrowed into thin slits of red light as he absorbed this news. "So she was just a pawn for you to use to get to me, and you felt you could throw her life away, just like that?"

Nightbird's optics flashed. "I will achieve my goals in any way I deem fit," she said coolly.

"Even when it leads you to a dead end, like it has this time?" Prowl snipped.

"It is a dead end, but at the same time it is not," Nightbird said. "I simply have to meditate upon everything that has happened, and determine my next course of action."

"Nightbird, you cannot figure everything out completely," Prowl said, spreading his hands apart to emphasize his words. "You would have to be the Allspark to reach the level of understanding it has on life, and fate. It took me a long time to realize that, but now I have. Do you understand?"

Nightbird studied him silently for a long moment.

Oil Slick, who had been silent up until this point, made a throat-clearing sound. "Megatron is on his way," he said aloud. It wasn't a threat, but perhaps sort of a reminder for Nightbird, or perhaps a mere statement of fact.

"I know," Nightbird replied automatically, although in truth she had completely forgotten about that until he'd mentioned it. In some ways she wasn't sure what to do now. She hadn't expected to be so confused right now; she'd expected to still be dueling with Prowl, and either come out on top or be killed in the process. Now she wasn't sure what to do.

"Actually I think he has just arrived," Prowl commented out loud. The others looked at him, and saw him gazing skyward. When Oil Slick and Nightbird glanced up themselves, they also saw what he saw; Omega Supreme had just arrived, and was looming above their heads in the sky.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Optimus Magnus had reviewed the soldiers they had available on Cybertron, and selected the ones he'd felt were the best. The team would be lead by Rodimus, who'd thankfully recovered from what Oil Slick had done to him all those months ago.

Once the team was picked out and sent on their way to the nearest Transwarp gate, Optimus knew there was nothing much he could do until he heard back from them. A small part of him almost missed the days when he could afford to go off as well, but he now had his responsibilities on Cybertron as the Magnus.

Plus he had something he needed to attend to as soon as he had the chance. Something of a… personal matter.

The Council was currently in recess, in order to give everyone some time to relax and get some energon, or to take a quick walk or to go for a quick recharge. Once the break was over, they were going to discuss the captured Decepticons a bit more, although Optimus knew that most of them were probably already destined for the stockade.

Part of Optimus hoped that they wouldn't get sent there, though. He'd never been there personally, but he'd seen reports, plus he had seen how insane Wasp was after spending time there.

He went to his office after leaving the council chambers in order to check his messages. He had every intention of going to the holding cells after stopping by his office, because there was someone he felt he needed to speak to. But the messages he'd received distracted him, at least momentarily.

He'd just received word that Rodimus and his team had transwarped to Prowl's coordinates, and that Omega Supreme, along with Megatron and several Decepticons, were there as well. The message ended rather abruptly with, "Will give a status report as soon as possible."

Part of Optimus sent a silent prayer to Primus in the hopes that either he, or perhaps even the Allspark, were listening and would lend them aide. Once again he regretted not being there with them, and for a moment the old Optimus Prime emerged within him, briefly contemplating going there to help them out anyway, but he quickly shoved the temptation away. He was a Magnus now. He couldn't simply go off and do whatever he wanted.

Then he checked out the second message that had been left on his communication terminal, and this one made his optics widen to nearly twice their normal size. This message was from Ratchet, someone whom he hadn't really heard much from for the past few months.

In truth, Ratchet had been quite busy both in spending time with Arcee and with various medical duties he'd been keeping himself occupied with. On top of that, it seemed that Ratchet was tutoring some young medic wannabe's on the basics of bot first aide and generalized medical treatment. Arcee on the other hand had chosen to devote her time to learning about everything she'd missed during the millennia she'd been ill, and so it seemed that, in a manner of speaking at least, she'd gone back to learning when she had once been a schoolteacher.

It was also fairly common knowledge by this point that Ratchet was allowing Arcee to stay in his home, and that they were spending much of their free time together. Optimus was fully aware of all of this, but the news that he'd just received in his new message from Ratchet was what shocked him so much.

The message read thus:

"Hey there, Optimus. Long time no speak. I guess I just wanted you to be the first to know that Arcee and I have bonded, and when I gave her a checkup today, I found out that she's carrying a sparkling. Imagine that, me a father, when I'm probably old enough to be a sparkling's Great, Great Grandfather. But we're both very happy, in fact we couldn't be happier.

"Feel free to stop by and visit us when you have the time—if you ever have the time. I know that being a Magnus takes a lot out of you. If nothing else, we'll come see you when the Sparkling is 'born', to borrow human terminology.

"Take care of yourself, Optimus."

For several moments, Optimus simply stared at the words on his screen. Then a slow smile crept across his features, and he typed a reply message to send back to Ratchet:

"Congratulations! I didn't even know you were planning to bond, but I can't think of anyone else better for either of you. I'm very happy for you and I know the new sparkling is in wonderful hands. I'll see if I can come by later. Optimus out."

Optimus skimmed over the message he'd just typed, feeling that it was a bit too… simplistic in some ways. It felt like there was more he'd wanted to say, but what else could he say in writing? Besides some things were better to say in person rather than in text, plus he still had a busy day ahead of him. So he sent the message, knowing that he would see them in person as soon as possible.

Once that was done he checked out the third and final message on his computer, one that made him groan inwardly. It read simply, "Magnus, any idea where I can find batteries for my media player? Thanks." And it was signed "Bumblebee".

In truth, Optimus had no idea where to find batteries for his media player, although he figured Bee might be able to find something suitable if he bothered to look around. Just because Optimus was Magnus now, it didn't mean he was suddenly the ultimate resource for anything and everything, and he had more important things to deal with than finding fresh batteries for a small Earth device.

And so, Optimus left that message unanswered. It wasn't like his break would last forever anyway, and he still had something he wanted to do. And he was going to go do it right now.

So he left his office, transformed into his vehicle mode and began to drive toward the building where the Decepticons were being held. He wanted to talk to BlackArachnia.


	17. Chapter 17

Jazz wasn't fully aware of how long he'd been lying there on the ground, helpless and immobile. He was aware, though, of the fact that his armor plating was corroded, and all of his joints were locked up and immobile. He was effectively paralyzed and he knew that his companions were as well.

His visor had some crusted rust around the edges, but thankfully he could still see. His visor had not rusted over because it was made of a different material, one that could not corrode like the rest of his body. Plus his audio sensors still worked, so he was able to detect it when Nightbird left the area, and then Oil Slick left them a while later.

Jazz thought it was a little odd that their Decepticon captors chose to leave them all alone like this, especially when it seemed that neither one was coming back. But nevertheless, he knew that it was a situation he could take advantage of.

Time to jam, he thought to himself, cyber ninja style. With that he began hum quietly, and his hum began to vibrate within his vocalizer as he focused more and more.

He was focusing on the Allspark fragment in Starscream's forehead. If the energy of it could regenerate Blurr and bring him back online, surely it could undo the effects of rust. And as Jazz continue to concentrate, his frown deepening as he did so, a faint groan from Starscream told him that he might be succeeding…

0o0o0o0o0o0

"Megatron is coming," Oil Slick repeated. He hadn't forgotten anything that had transpired here, and the irony of having been trained by an Autobot who'd been made from a Decepticon protoform wasn't lost to him. But he needed to find out what Nightbird was going to do, so he could act accordingly.

She was his life, after all. In fact… he'd never truly realized how much she meant to him until he had felt it in his spark that she was going to die. And he was very grateful he'd been able to prevent that, because… he suddenly realized that he didn't know how to live without her.

Nightbird didn't answer him; she wasn't even looking at him. In fact she seemed to be looking at nothing in particular or perhaps everything at once.

She snapped back to awareness when Oil Slick grabbed her by the shoulders and whirled her around to face him, forcing her to look into his own optics. "Answer me!" he said. "What do you want to do?"

Nightbird looked a bit taken aback and even Oil Slick was a little started by his own actions. But he really wanted to know what she had in mind, especially since this had been such a bit moment for her previously.

"I want to be alone!" Nightbird finally blurted out. "I am confused and I need time alone to think." With that she broke free of his grasp and ran.

Oil Slick hesitated only a brief instant before taking off after her, following.

Prowl looked after both of them just long enough to make certain they were running away and wouldn't be coming back. Once he was satisfied he wouldn't have to worry about them—at least for the moment—he quickly rushed over to Dreamscreamer and Sari.

The red-haired girl was just starting to awaken. She moaned softly as her head moved and her eyelids flickered. "Ugh," she groaned, trying to get bearings. "What happened?"

"I need to get you out of here," Prowl told her, gently scooping her up into his hand. Then, holding out his free arm, he carefully leaned forward and scooped up the limp form of Dreamscreamer, putting her over his shoulder. He didn't really want to carry her like that, especially since her head would dangle a bit if he had to run. But since he also had to carry Sari, he had no choice.

He glanced up toward the looming figure of Omega Supreme, and saw that the ship was slowly coming down for a landing, nearby. He realized he had no choice; he had to make a run for it and get the femmes to safety. Once he had them somewhere safe, he could decide what to do then.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Rodimus and his team of six arrived safely on the planet's surface, and the first thing they found was the shuttle that Prowl had used. Sure enough, when they checked it over, it was the very vessel he'd used; it had the same registry and whatnot.

Next Rodimus scanned the area using the shuttle's own sensors, and picked up multiple signals. Rodimus was reluctant to allow his team to split up, but since one of their objectives was to find the missing Autobots, he felt he had no choice.

So with that, he ordered everyone to split up, forming three smaller teams, each one going off in a different direction. Rodimus—who had two bots with him—ordered everyone to stay close to together after they split up, and that he didn't want anyone to be alone for even a second. With that, they split up and took off.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Starscream felt a sensation that was both wonderful and mildly painful. However he was getting used to pain; he'd been blown up and shot at several times already, after all. He'd come to accept pain as just another part of being immortal. Even though his body would always be regenerating itself and would stay alive, due to the Allspark fragment in his head, well, he would always have to put up with the owies.

The rust seemed to melt away and his armor regenerated. Once that was over he slowly pulled himself up to his feet, still feeling the after-effects of everything. He groaned and placed a servo against his forehead, glancing around.

It was then that he saw Jazz and Blurr lying there on the ground. Jazz was covered in rust and immobile, although Blurr looked particularly unfortunate, being covered in rust plus having a pair of stasis cuffs on him and having a mouth clamp in place.

"Hmmm," Starscream purred thoughtfully as he observed the scene and tried to determine his next course of action.

Well, on the one hand, Starscream was not stupid. Megatron was not going to allow him back into the Decepticon ranks under his leadership. And Megatron had probably alerted every Decepticon out there about Starscream, especially since the Decepticon leader had once placed a bounty on Starscream.

I wonder if that bounty is still in effect, Starscream thought to himself, then quickly brushed it away. He had more important things to worry about.

Well, for the time being he decided that it was simply best to continue helping the Autobots. They were the closest things he had to allies at the moment, after all; it wouldn't be good to just leave them here.

"Somehow this Allspark fragment cured me," Starscream murmured, then narrowed his optics as he turned to regard Jazz. Had he heard the white mech humming just before—and perhaps during—the regeneration of his armor, when the rust was fading away? Indeed, Starscream was somewhat aware of the cyber ninjas' unique abilities…

Curious, Starscream decided to try a little experiment. He knelt down beside Jazz and whispered quietly into his audio sensor, "Alright, Autobot, listen to me closely… I think I know how you got that rust off me. So here… pull your little trick and cure yourself, too." With that, Starscream leaned forward and leaned his forehead against Jazz's forehead, allowing the Allspark fragment to touch the Autobot's rusted armor plating.

And after a moment, Starscream began to feel a bit stupid and a bit embarrassed. Frankly, this entire situation felt ridiculous, and if anyone happened to come along and see Starscream bent over Jazz, pressing his face against the Autobot ninja's face, they might think…

"EWWWWW!" Starscream yelled at the thought, in spite of himself, and it effectively deafened Jazz's audios momentarily. However, Starscream kept himself completely still, keeping the Allspark fragment in his head pressed against the Autobot's head. The Decepticon simply kept wincing and hoping that no one would come along and see this, even as Jazz recovered from Starscream's, ah, scream, and began to hum softly.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Megatron knew that something was wrong. Neither Nightbird nor Oil Slick were responding, plus he could detect several Autobot energy signatures on the planet's surface. He presumed that at least one of them was probably the cyber ninja, Prowl.

So what had happened? Had Nightbird and Oil Slick failed to take him down? Until he had data that suggested otherwise, he would have to go by the assumption that they had indeed failed.

"I still do have a couple of bargaining chips, though," Megatron murmured to himself. He made a gesture toward his minions. "Bring me the two Autobot prisoners, as well as the dead Autobot's body. I wish to make a demonstration, and… offer an exchange."

0o0o0o0o0o0

When Optimus Magnus arrived at the holding cells, he transformed into robot mode and walked right into the building complex. He spoke briefly with the receptionist, inquiring as to which cell BlackArachnia was being held in. The young femme told him she was in cell thirty-one, four halls down, so he thanked her and followed her directions.

When he arrived at the cell, he saw the familiar blue, black and gold colored femme sitting on the edge of her berth, within a small cell that was completely empty—except for her and the berth, that is. She was sitting with her legs crossed and her arms folded, staring off into space. However, she shifted her seat a bit when she noticed Optimus just outside the force-field.

"So you're the new top notch of Cybertron now, hmm?" BlackArachnia purred as she looked him up and down. "Complete with the Magnus hammer, and a new pair of wings." She rose and moved toward the doorway, as close as she could without actually touching it. "Not bad," she said as she stroked her chin thoughtfully.

"Look, I came here to talk," Optimus began.

BlackArachnia cut him off. "Talk? About what? The fact that you let them throw me in here already says it all."

"Elita," Optimus said, intentionally calling her by the name he once knew her by, "you are a Decepticon, so we had no choice but to treat you like one. Especially after all the things you've done."

Again, she interrupted. "It was better for me to join the 'cons. I already told you that I know where I stand with them. You and Sentinel left me behind to die, and even if you did bring me back, they would have just turned me into an experiment and sliced me open—or done who knows what else to me!" Her voice had risen to a shrill shriek, and if there hadn't been a force-field between them, Optimus was certain she may have slapped him or injected him with venom.

Optimus had taken a step back, but now he sighed sadly. "Look, I think we've all done things we regret, including me," he said slowly. "But then again, I don't even know about you. Do you actually regret anything you've done in your quest to become fully bot again?"

BlackArachnia opened her mouth, then closed it. "What would it possibly matter if I did regret anything?" she asked.

Optimus narrowed his optics. "Think about it," he said. "You got left behind and became a techno-organic. Elita,"—he said her former name so tenderly it caused her to grimace—"I know it's been hard, and I wouldn't expect you to simply forget everything that happened and blindly trust me—or anyone else—again. But what exactly were you planning to do if you ever became all bot again? Stay with the Decepticons? Try and rejoin the Autobots? What?"

She made no reply, and Optimus shook his head and went on. "You should have thought about that. You can't just do all the things you've done and then expect to rejoin the Autobots like nothing happened, Elita."

"STOP CALLING ME THAT!" BlackArachnia shrieked and slammed her fists against the force-field, ignoring the mild shock that went through her systems as a result. Optimus took a hasty step back, and BlackArachnia backed away as well, clutching at herself and breathing heavily. She seemed to be panting as well as fuming.

Finally, after she recovered a bit, she spoke in a quiet voice, and there was a hint of a tremor in it. "You don't know what it's like. To be left for dead, and then to feel like the only place you can turn to is the Decepticons. They considered me a freak too, you know. But at least I was useful to them, so they let me have a room and have energon to eat. They even allowed me to hunt for organics so I could drain their blood, because my organic half needs nourishment too."

She half-sat, half-crouched down in the corner of the cell, partially hiding her face as she continued speaking. "You don't know what it's like. To have to go hunting for food you never needed to eat back while you were normal. To have everyone look at you in disgust if they watch you eat, and feeling like you have to eat in private unless you're just drinking energon like everyone else."

She shivered ever so slightly, then went on. "You have no idea what it's like, to have to… expose of smelly waste in a way that no bot has to. It doesn't matter what I would have done. I'd still be a disgusting freak."

"BlackArachnia," Optimus said when she fell silent, deciding it was better to use her current name, "unfortunately some bots—like Sentinel—will not accept you, but I am sure that some would have. And I'm sure that some bots would have protected you from being treated differently." He placed a servo on his chest. "I would have."

She looked at him with skepticism. "Really?" she asked flatly. Her tone strongly suggested she did not believe him.

"Really," Optimus said sincerely.

BlackArachnia narrowed her eyes. "Be that as it may, what happens to me now?"

"Well, I suppose that partially depends on you," Optimus said with a shrug. "I can't make any definite decisions without speaking to the council first. And I will be due for a meeting with them soon, to discuss with to do with you and the other 'cons that have been captured. But tell me, El—BlackArachnia—what do you want?"

BlackArachnia growled and turned away. "You know what I want. I want to be normal again."

"Then maybe we can somehow work toward that." Optimus sighed and moved as closely as he could to the cell door without touching the force field. "Look, let's just take this one step at a time, okay? Let us see if we can find a way to safely purge your organic half. Then we can just go from there."

BlackArachnia was silent for a long moment. Then finally she turned to look at him, and she said, "I suppose it's the only good offer I have right now." She shrugged, almost apathetically. "Do your best… or worst." She then scooted around so that her back was facing him.

"Right, then… I'll see what I can do." Optimus turned and walked away, knowing he was already going to be late for the council meeting, but he didn't really care. He just hoped that maybe he'd actually accomplished something here.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Jazz was almost finished causing the rust to melt away from his armor, and getting his armor back to normal.

Starscream was incredibly stiff, not liking being in this position for any longer than he had to. He hoped that he would be able to move soon.

It was right at that moment that Starscream's worst nightmare came true; he heard the sound of approaching footsteps, and then the sound of someone clearing their throat.

Starscream glanced up, then gasped in embarrassment—none other than the Autobot Prowl was standing there, and the fact that he had fiery red optics only caught a portion of the Decepticon's attention; he was too busy feeling embarrassed about how… this probably looked.

Starscream yelped and jumped to his feet, looking both sheepish and very indignant. Jazz quickly but casually pushed himself up off the ground, now fully recovered. Just as casually, the white-mech ninja brushed dust off out of his armor.

"That… wasn't what it looked like!" Starscream spat. He then turned and started to stomp off.

"Wait," Jazz said. "You need to use your Allspark fragment to help Blurr, too."

Scowling, Starscream turned and looked at the other Autobot lying on the ground. "Oh, must I?" he asked, throwing up his arms in exasperation.

"Yes," Jazz firmly.

Prowl turned away, turning his full attention to Dreamscreamer and Sari, and engaged the small, red-haired femme in quiet conversation. Jazz leaned casually against the nearby boulder and folded his arms. "I won't look," the white mech said, then began to whistle casually.

Starscream was furious at being teased, but nonetheless he knew that nothing would get done until he did his job, so to speak. So he bent over and pressed his forehead against Blurr's forehead. The Allspark chip that Starscream had pushed into Blurr's armor earlier then reacted with the one in the Decepticon's forehead, thus creating a regeneration effect that began to cure the rust.

And then, Rodimus and his two companions, Red Alert and Cliffjumper, happened to come across them just in time to see the newly cured Blurr with Starscream leaning over him and touching his faceplate with his own.

Needless to say, Starscream had definitely had more than his fair share of embarrassment that day. He was simply grateful that none of the Decepticons had seen any of this. And he dearly hoped they would never, EVER, hear about it. At all. Ever.


	18. Chapter 18

Oil Slick was relieved when Nightbird finally stopped running, because it allowed him to catch up with her. He knew that he could have transformed into his vehicle mode at any time, but since she did not have a vehicle mode, he considered it more… fair to go after her on foot.

"Nightbird," he said as he came up behind her. He tried to place his hands gently on her shoulders, but she shrugged him off and moved away.

"Nightbird," he said again, holding up his hands, "please tell me what is wrong." In some ways, those words sounded stupid and patronizing; he knew what was wrong, but he wanted to hear her say it.

He'd never, in all his existence, cared for someone's well-being as much as he did Nightbird. But nevertheless, here he was right now, standing behind her and hoping with all of his spark that she would open up and tell him what was going on inside that processor of hers, so that maybe… he could help.

The femme was silent for a few long moments. When she finally spoke, she did not look at him but kept staring straight ahead. "I am confused, I told you that already."

Suddenly, it clicked in Oil Slick's processor. "Because you thought you were on the right path, but fate told you differently," he reasoned out loud. "So now you don't have any idea what you're going to do next."

The only reply Nightbird gave was a slight nod. Anyone else may well have missed it, but Oil Slick knew her well. He knew her better than anyone else.

"I don't think anything happens without a reason," Oil Slick went on.

"It feels like fate changed its mind at the last minute," Nightbird said in a voice that was barely audible.

"No… I don't think of it like that," Oil Slick shook his head, moving up to stand beside her. However, he still refrained from touching her. "I think that you were simply given new information."

Now she looked at him. "That is what I don't understand."

"What do you mean?"

She frowned behind her face mask. "I feel cheated, because it seems like I was lead down a certain path, and I was so sure of myself, then it seems I found out differently. Not only would I have been killed by that Autobot—someone who I thought was misguided and even weak—but apparently you were told this information. I was not. I feel cheated, and I feel like I was lead astray."

"Perhaps you were simply operating on incorrect information, or false assumptions," Oil Slick suggested. "Anyone can make a mistake."

"I was so sure, though…"

Oil Slick found himself placing a hand on her shoulder. This time though she did not shove him away, so he leaned closer to her and whispered into her ear, "Maybe… there is another reason why this happened."

"What do you mean?" Her optics flickered curiously.

"Do you think maybe… we are meant to be together?" Oil Slick gently took her hand into his, then cupped it with the hand he had placed on her shoulder a moment ago. "Nightbird, I… I have felt differently ever since I felt you were going to die."

Nightbird attempted to draw back, but he slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. He then lowered the clear dome-helmet he had up around his head and leaned in toward her, pressing his forehead against hers. "Nightbird… I love you."

Her optics widened. She and Oil Slick had exchanged words of affection, plus they had shared a berth on numerous occasions. But they'd made no plans to spark-bond, nor had they discussed it or thought about it much. And this was the first time Nightbird had ever heard one of them actually say the words "I love you".

"Don't," Nightbird said, shaking her head and attempting to pull away. "I am too confused, and I need to figure things out on my own."

Oil Slick held onto her firmly, wrapping his other arm around her and restraining her in a tight embrace. "You wouldn't have found out you were going to die at Prowl's hand if I hadn't told you," he pointed out. "You can't do things alone anymore, you… need me." His mouth leaned in close to hers. "And I need you, Nightbird."

Again she attempted to pull away, but he held onto her. She then struggled against him, but he wouldn't release her, so they both ended up tumbling down onto the ground, with Oil Slick on top of Nightbird.

Oil Slick found that Nightbird had ceased her struggles, though he didn't move at all. Instead he looked deep into her optics. He then grabbed her chin so that she couldn't look away.

"Look me in the optics," he said firmly to her. "You're not alone anymore, whether you like it or not. No matter what happens, your decisions affect me now, too. So are you going to throw me aside like you threw Dreamscreamer aside, and were willing to kill Prowl for if you could? Am I just an interface partner that you shared a berth with, or am I something more?"

He moved his face closer to hers, his spark pulsing within his chassis. "If you truly don't love me, or think I can just be thrown aside, tell me right now. I will then go and you will never see or hear from me again. But look me in the optics if you wish to say that, and tell me that from the bottom of your spark."

Nightbird did not even try to look away from him. Was it his imagination, or was the pulse of her spark quickening a bit as well?

Several seconds passed. Soon a full cycle passed.

"You can't say it, can you?" Oil Slick said. "I mean more to you than a recharge-partner, or a simple comrade."

Nightbird's optics winked on and off, and she made sort of a gasping sound. "I…" She gulped. "I love you, too."

Oil Slick felt his spark soar within his chassis, and he found himself pressing his lips against hers, kissing her passionately. Nightbird wrapped her arms around him, and he returned the embrace fiercely. Both of them kissed until they rolled over onto their sides, still snuggling each other.

"Bond with me," Oil Slick requested, his voice trembling slightly with emotion. "And then we will be a part of each other for the rest of our lives, and intertwine our faces." He nuzzled his forehead against hers. "Whatever happens next, we'll face it together."

Nightbird said nothing, but her optics were shining with feeling. And her next action revealed her answer; she pulled back from Oil Slick and untangled her arms from him, but this was just so she could begin to unfasten the front of her chassis.

Oil Slick saw what she was doing and immediately began to unfasten his own chassis. They were going to spark bond, right here and now, on this dead world in the middle of nowhere.

0o0o0o0o0o

Optimus Magnus and the council members deliberated for quite some time on the issues of the Decepticon prisoners, but in the end they finally reached a decision. They would give all of the Decepticons a choice; either change their allegiances to that of the Autobots, or be shipped off to the stockade.

Furthermore, Optimus had stated that he would like to have direct custody and responsibility for BlackArachnia until further notice, at least until they got her organic half purged, if they could. After some discussion, the rest of the council agreed on this.

This assured Optimus that nothing would happen to BlackArachnia without his knowledge or consent… so long as she behaved herself, at least.

With nothing further to discuss, Optimus and the rest of the council departed from the council chambers, and Optimus transformed into his vehicle mode. He was going to pay BlackArachnia another visit.

And he definitely had some things to talk to her about…

0o0o0o0o0o0

Just a few months ago, if anyone had told Starscream he would be walking alongside a troop of Autobots, ready to fight alongside them… he probably would have laughed in their face, right before blasting them across the room. And yet here he was, doing just that.

Rodimus and Prowl walked side by side in the very front, with the dark ninja-bot carrying the limp form of Dreamscreamer in his arms. They had rendezvoused with the other two groups of Autobots and were now heading straight toward the area where Omega Supreme had landed.

Sari was now riding on Prowl's shoulder, with one hand resting on his shoulder mod to keep from falling off. She had recovered enough so that she could be alert, but not quite enough to walk on her own yet. Plus her jetpack was damaged, so she couldn't use it.

When they arrived at the shuttle which Prowl, Sari and the unconscious Dreamscreamer had arrived in, the ninja bot turned and went into the shuttle. He set Dreamscreamer down on the floor, then reached up and gently picked up Sari. He placed the red-haired femme beside the unconscious femme.

Sari glanced up at him. "You're not leaving me here?" she exclaimed.

"I think it would be best," Prowl told her, kneeling down next to her. "You are still recovering your strength, and I really need someone to stay here and look after Dreamscreamer."

Sari looked like she was about to protest, but Prowl held up a finger. "Sari I need you to do this," he said. "If nothing else, do it for her. I can't take her into danger with me, and she needs someone to be with her."

Sari glanced down at the unconscious femme, then sighed. "Well, okay," she said. Then she reached up and placed a hand on his knee. "Just be careful out there, okay?"

Prowl nodded, then rose. He turned and headed out of the shuttle, closing the door behind him.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Optimus arrived at the prison cell where BlackArachnia was being kept, frowning slightly as he looked at her. It seemed that she was content to sit on the floor, and she was not looking at him. However, her posture seemed a bit more… relaxed than it had been when he was there last.

"BlackArachnia?" he addressed her gently.

She cast him a brief glance, then resumed staring at the wall. "Let me guess," she said flatly, "you haven't made any progress."

Optimus sighed. "We haven't had a chance to begin yet," he told her.

She made a "Figures!" gesture with her hand, then rested it on her knee. "I should have known. You and the other Autobots aren't all that anxious to help me."

"Actually I was just in the council room, fighting to keep you out of the stockade," Optimus informed her, narrowing his optics slightly. "You are now under my protection."

She snorted. "Isn't that nice. But," she shrugged dismissively, "better late than never I suppose."

Optimus chose to ignore her attitude. "We will begin to try and find a way to… make you fully bot again as soon as possible. Until then—"

She cut him off. "As soon as possible? And when will that be, ten months from now?"

"As soon as possible means just what I said. As soon as possible."

"Uh huh. Well I find it hard to believe that I could be very high on the priority list. Especially since the Autobots have so many other concerns."

Optimus was used to the bitter attitude she held toward Autobots, and in a way he couldn't blame her. And yet the way she spoke of him and other Autobots disturbed him a bit. It's as if she felt so bitter toward them that she had completely disassociated herself from them. However, it was still a good sign that part of her was giving them a chance, at least.

Or was she? Was she simply humoring him somehow, simply because she had no other choice and nowhere to go? It wasn't like she could escape, after all. But nevertheless, the fact that she had given him the antidote to cure Bumblebee and Prowl on Dinobot Island after she'd blackmailed him gave him some hope that she could be reached.

Just then, an idea came to him. Actually he'd been considering talking to her about something specific in the back of his mind, it was just that he was waiting for the right time to do so.

"What if you can't go back to being what you were?" he asked her.

"I knew it, you're already thinking about giving up."

"No, I didn't say that," Optimus said, "I am just saying that there is someone I'd like you to meet, when she gets back." I just hope she gets back okay, he found himself thinking. Part of him didn't like Sari being out there, especially since Megatron had arrived. But he also knew she could take care of herself.

"Unless they can help me purge my organic contamination, I don't want to see anyone."

"This person is a techno-organic like yourself."

She glanced up, frowning. "Who? Wasp?" If that was the case, she already knew him, and she had no interest in seeing him. Besides, he'd been taken off to a different cell in a different area of the building. That suited her fine.

"No, Sari."

BlackArachnia raised an optic ridge. "That kid? But she's just a human."

The corners of Optimus's mouth edged upwards. "Let's just say she's been through a few changes since you last saw her, and we found out she's part Cybertronian. So she's half organic, just like you are."

BlackArachnia stared at him as though he was pulling her servo.

"Plus," Optimus went on before she could say a word, "she's adapted quite well to her life as a techno-organic. She still finds things to do, she makes herself useful, and she has friends. Some bots don't like her because of what she is, but some bots do."

"Lucky for her," BlackArachnia muttered. "The kid is practically a sparkling, and she's grown up on an organic world. Of course she would be used to her organic half. I used to be fully bot before this happened."

"My point is that Sari once believed she was fully organic, only to find out she was half Cybertronian. But she didn't let that bring her down, she embraced who she is and accepted it."

BlackArachnia snorted. "From what little I observed of that kid, she was a social outcast to begin with. You and your little crew of grunts on Earth were the first real friends she had, so of course it would make her happy to find out she was more like you than she thought." She turned away. "I don't have anything to be happy about with my organic contamination. And," she hissed, "that is what it is, a contamination. Just because Sari is willing to live with it, it doesn't mean I have to. Nor do I have to like it."

Optimus sighed. "Look, I don't expect you to change your mind overnight. But when Sari gets back, I'd appreciate it if you could at least give her a chance, and maybe talk to her."

BlackArachnia shrugged. "Whatever," she snipped apathetically. "Could be amusing I suppose. And it's not like I'm going anywhere."

Optimus gazed at her for a moment, then decided that he really didn't have much else to say. "Well, I guess I'll go and see what I can do about, um, seeing if your organic half can be purged," he said, already turning and walking away. Part of him hoped she would be able to accept it and live with it somehow, just in case they couldn't find a way to purge her organic half. But nevertheless, he would keep his promise and do all he could to help her get rid of it.

0o0o0o0o0

Megatron was fully aware that the Autobot troops were approaching. However, this was all going according to his plan. Omega Supreme was safely landed on the ground, and he lead his fellow Decepticons—which consisted of Lugnut, Shockwave, Team Char, and two of the Starscream clones that Team Char had found out in space—and he approached the drawbridge as it lowered to the ground.

He ordered his minions to stay back, and he stepped down the drawbridge until he reached the bottom, then he stopped. Then he called out to the approaching Autobots in a loud voice:

"It would not be wise to attack me," he began, holding up his arms for emphasis of his words. "I have the power of Omega Supreme at my servos, plus I have prisoners."

He gave a gesture with his hand, and then Lugnut stepped into view, holding one of the jet twins in each of his hands. They were both secured in stasis cuffs, plus they each had a mouth clamp preventing them from speaking.

Megatron saw the Autobots pausing from where they stood, and he also saw the looks on their faces. He smirked slightly; he knew he had them now, at least in some ways.

"Now," Megatron went on, "unless you want those two to end up like this…" He gestured again, and then Strika stepped into view, throwing the cold, limp body of Sentinel down the drawbridge, allowing it to clatter and roll until it landed at the bottom, right next to Megatron's feet.

Megatron then grabbed the cold, dull gray remains of Sentinel and held it high above his head. Upon seeing the collective gasp from the Autobots, he smiled evilly. "Unless you want this to happen to those Autobot twins up there, I suggest you do as I say." With that, he threw Sentinel's body down on the ground in front of him for emphasis.

Of course, Megatron knew full well that it would probably save a lot of time and energy to simply open fire from Omega Supreme, and destroy them all. But in his opinion, most of the group were pathetic—the ones he was truly worried about were the ninjas, and he hoped that Autobot "honor" or whatnot would persuade them to sacrifice themselves for the sake of their captured comrades.

"Hand over the Autobots Prowl and Jazz," Megatron ordered. "And we will let those two little pipsqueaks go." He pointed at the blue and orange captives.


	19. Chapter 19

A silence had fallen. Prowl, Jazz, Rodimus and everyone else in their group—including Starscream—glanced at each other, and glanced back at Megatron and Omega Supreme. The fact of the matter was, if they tried anything, Jetfire and Jetstorm might be destroyed.

"Ah and I see you have the traitor Starscream with you as well," Megatron murmured, raising an optic ridge at his observation. "I should have known you would end up joining the Autobots; you were always too weak for anything less."

Starscream gritted his dental plating and growled. "It is just an alliance, that is all!" he snipped. In his own way he was trying to save face in front of two groups. He didn't want the only allies he had to think he was ditching them, but he didn't want to start developing a worse reputation amongst the Decepticons, either.

"Even if it is 'just an alliance', it still means you're technically one of them now," Megatron said with a smirk. "Fine, if the Autobots will suffer a traitor like you in their midst, they can have you. My only interest is in the cyber ninjas."

Then, as if dismissing Starscream's presence entirely, the Decepticon leader turned his optics toward Prowl. "And by the way, what is this? I've never seen you without your visor before, Autobot, but I definitely noticed you have red optics—like that of a Decepticon." Megatron touched his chin thoughtfully as he continued to look at Prowl.

Heads turned toward Prowl. Indeed, the other Autobots—not to mention Starscream—had noticed his red optics as well. They had all expressed curiosity and some concern—some of them were even suspicious—but they had quickly brushed it off when they deduced that Prowl was, well, still Prowl.

"I thought that your build looked… familiar," Megatron went on. "You must be one of the protoforms that the Autobots abducted from the Decepticons, and had an Autobot spark placed within you." Megatron cocked his head to one side. "Or do you have an Autobot spark? I know that at least some of those protoforms already had sparks within them when they were taken…"

Another silence fell like a heavy brick. In truth, Prowl never really knew much about his heritage, and he'd always been an Autobot for as long as he could remember. The only thing he'd really paid attention to was the fact that he had to wear his blue visor in order to blend in and hide his red optics. Master Yoketron had once offered to check into his background if he wished it, but Prowl had politely refused. Perhaps he figured he was better off not knowing… or maybe he was somewhat afraid of what truth might be found.

"Perhaps you should rejoin your Decepticon brothers," Megatron was saying. "This is where you truly belong."

"No," Prowl said, with such force that a couple of the Autobots behind him started slightly. "My place is with the Autobots. I have been with them all my life and I am an Autobot, not a Decepticon. It doesn't matter who built me or where my spark came from. I am Autobot Prowl, cyber ninja."

Megatron narrowed his optics. "Be that as it may, my threat still stands. Hand over the cyber ninjas, and we will give you back your jet Autobots. Fail to comply and I will destroy them personally."

"How can we guarantee that you will hand them over to us?" Rodimus spoke up.

"Oh, you have my word."

"The word of a Decepticon?" Jazz murmured quietly. "Those jet brothers might as well be writing out their wills right now."

"So what do we do?" Cliffjumper asked, just as quietly.

"You have five cycles to decide!" Megatron snipped, and turned to head back up the drawbridge. Once he was at the top he turned and looked down at the Autobots, folding his arms in front of his chassis.

The Autobots—and Starscream—glanced at each other and continued to talk amongst themselves quietly.

The five cycles were up almost too quickly, but by that point, the group of Autobots had already reached a decision. Not only that, but they had a plan.

Megatron narrowed his optics and unfolded his arms, placing his hands on his hips. "So, are you going to hand over the cyber ninjas?"

"Yes," Rodimus said, speaking up. "But on two conditions—it will be a simultaneous trade, and we want you to go inside the ship, and not lay a servo on either Jazz or Prowl until we have the twins, and until both ninjas are inside."

"Very well, but no tricks, I am warning you," Megatron said sternly. He then turned and headed back inside, undoubtedly to summon one of his minions to bring the twins. While his back was turned, Prowl nodded ever so slightly to himself and to his companions.

A few moments later, Megatron came back into view just inside the doorway at the top of the drawbridge. Then Lugnut came into view just beside him, holding onto each of the jet brothers in each of his servos. The two Autobots were still stasis-cuffed, and they were both wearing mouth clamps.

"Step back from the draw bridge," Rodimus instructed in a loud, clear voice. "And release the Autobot prisoners."

"Only after we see the Autobot ninjas coming up the drawbridge," Megatron informed him.

With that, Jazz and Prowl began to slowly walk up the drawbridge, walking single-file along one side in order to give room for the jet brothers to walk down. Just as they reached the half-way point, Megatron sighed and nodded toward his minion, indicating that they should release the jet twins. A deal was a deal after all, and he was more or less counting on Autobot "honor" which he knew he could take advantage of in this situation, at least hopefully.

Jetfire and Jetstorm seemed relieved to have the mouth clamps and stasis cuffs taken off. They quietly walked down the drawbridge, passing Prowl and Jazz on the way down. Both of them noticed something odd as they passed, but neither of them said a word and they tried their best to act nonchalant. They did, however, quicken their pace toward the bottom.

Then, just as Jazz and Prowl reached the top of the drawbridge and stepped inside, Shockwave stepped forward with a pair of stasis cuffs in each servo. But just as he tried to place one pair on Prowl, his servos went right through the ninja-bot.

Just then, Prowl and Jazz disappeared, completely winking out of existence.

"Holograms!" Megatron spat, glancing down toward the Autobots. Sure enough, just as Jetfire and Jetstorm stepped off the edge of the drawbridge, at the bottom, he could just barely make out Prowl ducking down behind the rest of the Autobots. Starscream, who was taller than any of the Autobots, was helping to block the black ninja—along with Jazz—from sight as well.

"RUN!" Rodimus cried, and they all turned and began to make a run for it. They all knew that Megatron was going to be furious, plus he had all of the firepower of Omega Supreme at his servo-tips.

"!" Blurr exclaimed, transforming into his car mode as he spoke. Indeed, their vehicle modes were faster. The air was suddenly filled with the sounds of transformation and then three jets burned their thrusters hotly, leading the ground vehicles away from Omega Supreme and the imminent wrath of the Decepticons.

"We must get back to the shuttle!" Prowl exclaimed.

"No time!" Rodimus shouted. "Let's just get a safe distance away and call Cybertron, requesting a space bridge bubble. They still have the coordinates, so they can emit another bubble and get us home. We just have to get back to the same spot where we first arrived—"

"No I must get back to the shuttle," Prowl said. "Dreamscreamer and Sari are still there."

"Very well," Rodimus relented. "We'll go to the shuttle first, then I'll lead the way back to the rendezvous point for the space bridge."

"We might be able to use the shuttle," Jazz called out.

"No we can't, the Decepticons will use Omega to blow it up before we can even reach orbit!" Rodimus exclaimed.

"No, I have an idea!" Jazz exclaimed.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Megatron was indeed furious. But at the same time he knew he shouldn't be surprised; Autobots were just as adept at trickery as Decepticons. Sentinel had certainly shown some characteristics that Autobots supposedly didn't have—a fact which made Megatron feel that the Decepticons were truly the superior force. After all, the cons were at least up front and honest about what they were doing, and they acknowledged publicly where they stood.

The Autobots on the other hand, well, they lied even to themselves. At least some of them did. Although part of Megatron wondered just who's idea it was to use the holographic trick, although it wouldn't surprise him if it was Starscream or Prowl, or perhaps both.

Megatron knew he needed to destroy the Autobots before they could escape, although part of him felt that it was a real shame. Prowl had indeed come from Decepticon stock, so there was great potential in that one. It was too bad he wouldn't be able to add him to his ranks. A little reprogramming and brainwashing would have done it.

The Decepticon leader gave the order to bring Omega Supreme up off the ground and take the mighty vessel into pursuit of the Autobots on the ground. At first he had to have Shockwave check them on the sensors, to see where they had gone. Apparently they were quickly approaching a shuttlecraft.

Within a few minutes, the Autobots arrived at the shuttlecraft, and presumably went inside. Shortly after that, the shuttle fired up and began to speed upward, heading toward the upper atmosphere.

"Fools, they seriously think they can get away in that?" Megatron exclaimed. He then pointed his finger toward the screen, about to give the order to open fire, but then stopped himself. "Wait," he murmured aloud. "Check the sensor readouts again. Are the Autobots on the shuttle?"

Shockwave checked the sensors, then blinked his singular, red optic. He then glanced at Megatron. "No, my Lord," he said. "In fact the shuttle seems to be on auto-pilot."

"A decoy!" Megatron exclaimed with a growl. "Clever," he murmured. "Scan the area again, look for those accursed Autobots!"

And Shockwave managed to track them down, only to find that they had ceased all movement and seemed to be waiting for something at their current position. A moment later, a transwarp bubble was detected, and then the Autobots—along with Starscream—were gone from the sensors, and the energy bubble winked out of existence.

Megatron slammed his fist down angrily against the console within the control room. No doubt the Autobots had gone back to Cybertron, and there would be no reaching them now.

After a moment of silence passed, Shockwave tentatively asked, "What do you wish to do now, my Lord?"

"Try and locate Nightbird and Oil Slick," Megatron said. "I want to know what happened to them."


	20. Chapter 20

Oil Slick stroked Nightbird's face affectionately, staring deeply into her optics. We are one, he thought to her through their new bond.

Neither of them could be sure just how long they'd been lying there on the ground, huddled in each other's arms, their torso plating removed and their sparks revealed to each other. The femme's hand stroked her mate's bare chest, her fingers inching closer and closer to his spark, until her fingertips gently brushed it. She felt a small but sharp pulse of electricity in response to her touch and heard a small gasp from Oil Slick.

Nightbird knew that that had been mildly painful for Oil Slick, but she also knew he liked it. Certain kinds of pain and mild discomforts could actually be considered pleasurable and desirable, although it depended on the individual.

Quite suddenly, their commlinks went off in unison, startling them both out of their blissful state. Nightbird sat up so suddenly that her faceplate slammed into Oil Slick's face, causing the mech to yelp. It took them a moment to untangle themselves from each other and sit up.

"Oil Slick here," the chemist said as he pressed his commlink button.

Nightbird pressed hers as well. "Nightbird responding."

Shockwave's voice came over both their commlinks; "Where are you? Megatron wishes to know what happened to you. And what are your current whereabouts?"

Nightbird and Oil Slick exchanges glances. Then they both scrambled to snatch up the torso plating they'd left on the ground while they were interfacing.

What do you want to do? Oil Slick asked his mate silently through their bond. Do you want to go back to the Decepticons?

Nightbird frowned. There is not any other place to go, she told him.

Oil Slick nodded in understanding. He then spoke into the commlink again, giving Shockwave their approximate coordinates. The former double-agent then acknowledged, and said that they would be there to pick up him and Nightbird shortly.

Oil Slick had just finished fastening his torso plating in place without really paying much attention to it, although he thought it felt a little odd. Almost like it didn't fit quite right. He then glanced at Nightbird and noticed she didn't have her torso plating on yet. Not that he minded at all, because he knew that he was the only one who had ever seen her revealed, and he would always be the only one. But he also knew that the others were coming.

"Why haven't you put your torso plating back on?" he asked her.

"Because this isn't mine… it's yours." Nightbird held it out to him.

Oil Slick's optics widened and he glanced down at his own chest. Sure enough, that was Nightbird's torso plating he had on, not his. Grumbling he unfastened it and yanked it off, handing it to her and taking his own. And thankfully, both of them got their respective armor back in place before the other Decepticons arrived.

0o0o0o0o0o0

The control center of Omega Supreme was largely empty at the moment, except for Megatron and Shockwave. Megatron had debriefed Oil Slick and Nightbird as much as he had felt necessary and both of them told him pretty much the same thing; they had tried to hold their positions, but the Autobots had overwhelmed them. And, knowing the cleverness of some of the Autobots, especially one particular black-and-gold mech, Megatron believed them.

Being the perceptive sort, Megatron was also aware that Oil Slick and Nightbird had apparently bonded. He could simply tell by the way they talked and the way they would occasionally have the same look in their eyes, as though they were thinking the exact same things. Not only that, but there were a couple of times when they finished each other's sentences. This sort of behavior was very typical for newly bonded 'bots, and Megatron had raised an optical ridge at them a couple times during the debriefing, but said nothing about it. Frankly, so long as his troops were loyal and did as he said, he couldn't possibly care less if they bonded to someone or even if they interfaced with everyone in sight. All he wanted was their obedience and for them to be useful.

Megatron also didn't want to waste any time dwelling on the past; it was simply time to move forward and make new plans, and to take steps as to not repeat any mistakes. So after he was satisfied, he'd simply dismissed the newly bonded pair from the room, and gone to peer at the lifeless shell of the Autobot Prime that Shockwave had killed.

It really did look useless, but Megatron had snatched it up and brought it back onboard, because he had an idea forming. It seemed like a preposterous idea in some ways, but Megatron had already seen many things over the billions of stellar cycles to believe that anything was possible.

"My Lord," Shockwave said almost tentatively, unsure of his master's mood after the failure back on the planet, "do you have a purpose in mind for the Autobot shell?"

Megatron smirked slightly. He knew that Shockwave was the curious sort, at least sometimes. He chose to humor him, at least a bit. "Yes, in fact I do. And I'm also going to have a use for those two ninjas we have onboard."

Again, Shockwave's curiosity was piqued—even moreso this time. And since Megatron seemed to be in a fairly good mood overall, it encouraged him to ask another question or two. "You mean Nightbird and Oil Slick?"

"Indeed." Megatron chuckled slightly.

Shockwave was a bit puzzled, since they had just suffered the loss of their hostages and the very bots that Megatron had wanted had gotten away. However, Shockwave simply dismissed the thought, figuring that it simply meant that his master had a new plan, or perhaps he'd had a backup plan all along. Either way, it was a good sign.

"I want you to put the following coordinates into the navigational computer," Megatron told his minion.

After receiving the coordinates, Shockwave's singular optic blinked. "We are going to Earth?" he asked, surprised. Nevertheless his fingers danced over the control console, inputting the coordinates. "May I ask why we are going there?" he asked once he was finished.

Megatron smiled a small, sly smile. "We're going to pick up someone," he said simply. "Along with an important item that may mean complete victory over the Autobots."

"Is there a Decepticon on Earth?" Shockwave asked.

"Yes, my ever-loyal subject, Soundwave."

"Ah," Shockwave said with a nod. He'd heard of him; Megatron had made a record of all of the bots he'd encountered on Earth, whether they had been brought to life by the Allspark key or Allspark fragments after it had been shattered. "What does Soundwave have in his possession that is so valuable?"

"You shall see." That was all Megatron would say. But apparently he had been in communication with Soundwave somehow or other, perhaps on a private, encrypted channel, and knew something that no one else knew. But if the contented, optimistic smirk on the Decepticon leader's face was any indication, it was something huge.

In some ways though, Shockwave still couldn't help but wonder what the significance of the cyber ninjas were. Yes it was probably because they were so powerful and had gifts and disciplines that regular Autobots and Decepticons did not have. But considering the fact that Megatron wanted all of the Autobot cyber ninjas either captured or dead, and that he seemed to have something specific in mind just now for Nightbird and Oil Slick… Shockwave couldn't help but wonder if he was missing something, or if there was something Megatron knew that he didn't.

Could it have anything at all to do with whatever Soundwave had on Earth? And just what was Megatron planning to do with Sentinel's lifeless shell? Shockwave knew better than to press his master when he didn't wish to disclose any further information, so he wisely kept silent. He knew that he would just have to wait and see.

"I am engaging the transwarp drive now," Shockwave announced. "We will be at Earth shortly."

Megatron nodded in approval.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Optimus Magnus was more than relieved when everyone got back to Cybertron, safe and sound. It took some time to debrief everyone and get the gist of what happened, but at least everyone was safe. Megatron was still on the loose, but at least he no longer had any hostages to bargain with.

In his own way, Optimus was shocked to learn of the death of Sentinel Prime. In truth, Optimus had always disliked Sentinel, particularly his self-righteous attitude, his glory-cog nature, and his manipulative nature. Yet somehow… in some odd way, Optimus had to admit—at least deep down—he had considered Sentinel a friend. At least somewhat.

And now he was gone, just like that. They hadn't even had a chance to retrieve his body, so it was either still back on the planet, or Megatron had it. Although Optimus assumed the former, because he didn't see what the Decepticons could possibly use a dead Autobot shell for.

But yes, Optimus had to admit, at least to himself, that he was saddened. If only Sentinel had turned around…

Sentinel, Optimus thought, shaking his head slightly, Why couldn't you have opened your optics and gotten past your ego? Perhaps there were some things about Sentinel he never fully understood, and now would never understand.

But of course there were other matters to attend to, and the fact that Sari was looking up at him with concern on her caused his processor to return to the present. Right at this moment, everyone who had been whisked away from the planet Megatron had been on were in the Cybertronian hospital where Ratchet worked. Everyone was being given an examination to make sure they were alright, particularly Dreamscreamer and Blurr.

Sari, who had been the first to be given a clean bill of health by none other than Ratchet, was currently sitting in the waiting area with Optimus. The Magnus sat on one of the chairs along the wall just outside of the main office, and Sari was sitting in the seat next to him. However, since the chairs were designed for twenty-foot robots to sit in, she looked small and almost insignificant in her seat.

"You okay, big guy?" Sari asked. She had her faceplate down so that he could see her face, but she had her helmet up around her head.

"I'm not sure," Optimus admitted. Despite her youth, Optimus had sometimes found Sari to be easy to talk to, and a good person to confide in. Then again, by Cybertronian standards, Optimus wasn't really all that old himself.

Sari frowned slightly, then she stood and moved across the seat she was on, then leaped across the distance between her chair and Optimus's chair, landing in his lap. She then sat down on the edge of his leg and looked up at him. "Come on, you can tell me," she said. "And it's not like there's much else to do right now, except wait."

"Actually I do have to go to another council meeting an less than a mega-cycle," he told her with a shrug.

"Yeah well, until then at least," Sari shrugged in return. "Come on, what's eating you?"

Optimus smiled ever so slightly at the phrase, for it reminded him of the first time he'd heard her say that, shortly after they'd first met. At the time he'd thought that she had been referring to something on him, like space barnacles. Ratchet, who had been close enough to overhear at the time, had grown concerned and almost made Optimus get a checkup.

"I never thought it would be like this," Optimus finally admitted. "I never thought Ultra Magnus would step down and make me Optimus Magnus. And then I never thought things would be this busy for this long, even though I guess I knew deep down, at least somewhat."

He sighed softly. "Sari, I'm used to being out there fighting Decepticons as they attacked Earth, which was under my jurisdiction. I was used to taking action in an area where I had been assigned."

"But now you're just one of the bigwigs who dishes out orders to people who are like you used to be on Earth," Sari cut in. "I think I get what you mean, Prime. Right now you're one of the politicians, someone who talks and talks but never really does anything except debate the issues and then give out orders, and then the little people do all the leg work."

"Not only that, but the 'little people', as you say, are the ones who get killed," Optimus frowned. "We were fortunate that only one bot went offline on that planet where Megatron was. The causalities could have been a lot worse. But it feels like I may just as well be sending bots to their death, when I should be out there with them."

"Hey you're needed here," Sari told him firmly. "People around here need a good strong leader, and someone who knows what he's doing. And maybe all that stuff you went through on Earth was just, you know, preparation for all this." She raised her arms, gesturing around herself indicatively. "If nothing else, they need the encouragement of knowing they're in good hands, and they need someone to look up to." She patted his chest plate. "You're good for morale, big guy."

In spite of himself, Optimus smiled at her words.

"And," Sari went on, "if you need any help with anything, just let me know."

"Actually," Optimus said, "there is something I could use your help with."

She cocked her head to one side. "Yep?"

"I'd like you to go visit BlackArachnia."

0o0o0o0o0o

"Well, physically she is in perfect health," Ratchet murmured as he leaned over Dreamscreamer's limp, motionless form to scan her one more time.

The room was quite large, and full of berths that were mostly occupied with patients. However, some of the bots had been given a clean bill of health and dismissed, so the place was gradually clearing out. Rodimus and his team had already left, but everyone else stayed either because they chose to or because they had not been released.

"But what of her processor?" Prowl asked with a frown. He stood just behind Ratchet, peering down at Dreamscreamer through his new visor, one that Hoist had given him. The black-mech ninja had been given a clean bill of health, as had Jazz, but the two ninjas chose to linger behind.

"I think, from what you told me that Nightbird said… well, she's right," Ratchet said with a reluctant sigh. "We have only two options; either leave her like this, hoping against all hope that she can recover, or wipe her memory core and give her a clean, fresh start."

"Neither option looks very good," Prowl said, a touch of sadness in his voice. "But Nightbird said that the virus in her systems had destroyed everything, and the only way to give her her life back is to reformat her hard drive."

Ratchet sighed again, placing a servo on his forehead. "I'm getting too old for this," he muttered. He lowered his hand. "Look, we were able to find a way to bring Arcee back, with Sari's help. Maybe—"

"Sari already tried," Prowl interrupted. "There isn't anything that can be done in this case; even Dreamscreamer's backup memory storage has been corrupted."

"I don't want to do this," Ratchet said without looking at him.

Prowl reached out and placed a gentle hand on the medic's shoulder, knowing what he was thinking. "Ratchet, this isn't like what happened to Arcee. This is the only thing you can do to help Dreamscreamer. Don't let her live a life as an empty, mindless shell on a medical berth. Give her another chance at life."

Ratchet's optics dimmed as he looked at the EMP device on his arm. He was silent for a long moment, then sighed again. "Alright," he said. "I'll… do it." He turned and narrowed his optics. "I think I'd rather be alone while I do this."

Prowl and Jazz exchanged glances, then they both nodded. But just as they were about to exit through the door, another voice rang out:

"Hey! When am I going to be allowed to leave?" It was Starscream. He had been given a thorough examination, as well as some leeway due to the fact that he was considered a traitor amongst the Decepticons and that he had helped the Autobots a lot back on the planet. But that didn't mean he was fully trustworthy.

The two Autobots guarding him at his berth exchanged glances, then looked toward Ratchet uncertainly.

Hoist, who had just entered the room, spoke up before anyone else could. "Easy now, I've been ordered to take you to one of the waiting rooms."

"Waiting rooms? You mean a holding cell, don't you?" Starscream exclaimed.

"No," Hoist said with exaggerated patience, "I mean a waiting room, right here at the hospital. Just until the Council is ready to speak to you."

"The Autobot Council wants to speak to me?" Starscream said, sounding a bit surprised. Then a thoughtful expression crossed his face.

"Yeah," Ratchet spoke up. "They want to know if you have any useful information about Megatron and the Decepticons to share. If you know what's best for you, you will cooperate fully. Then they'll probably go easy on you."

"Hmmm," Starscream murmured, gears turning inside his head.

"Come along now," Hoist said, gesturing toward the door. With that, he left the room with Starscream in tow.

Jazz and Prowl hesitated for a moment, then left through another exit. Prowl paused in the doorway just in time to see Ratchet powering up his EMP, but a nudge from Jazz caused the black-and-gold mech to turn and leave the room. The door closed soundlessly behind them.

"So," Jazz said, turning to face Prowl once the door had shut behind them, "how're you holding up?"

Prowl knew that Jazz was talking about what happened back on the planet. Both of them also knew that rumors were starting to spread about Prowl's red optics, although Prowl himself hoped that such things could be dismissed as mere fiction. He was a private individual, plus—even though he wouldn't admit it—a proud person. He didn't like his personal business being spread around, and to find out for himself where he had originally come from… it was very shocking and disconcerting, to say the least. Especially to have found out in front of several Autobots, who heard everything as well.

"I am doing alright," Prowl finally said. "I guess I'm still trying to absorb the information." He frowned a little. "But Jazz," he found himself saying as they walked down the hall, "what if I really am a Decepticon? Or at least was? Where did my spark come from?"

"Doesn't matter," Jazz said with a shrug. "Like you said back on the planet, and right after we got back to Cybertron, you've always been an Autobot, at least technically. Doesn't matter where your spark came from or who built you."

Prowl nodded, as though that was all that needed to be said on the subject. It was obviously still on his processor, though. But neither of them knew quite what to say. So they simply kept on walking in silence.

0o0o0o0o0

"You really think she'll listen to me?" Sari asked, after Optimus had explained to her why he wanted her to talk to BlackArachnia.

"I honestly don't know," Optimus said with a shrug. "But I think it's worth a try."

Sari sighed. "Well… okay. Maybe when you leave to go to the Council, I'll go see her." She smirked. "At least now I know that if she grabs me, I'll be able to give her a face full of this!" She lifted one of her hands and allowed her palm to open up, revealing her energy weapon, but did not fire. She was simply showing it off. Then, just as quickly, she closed it up again.

"Just be patient with her," Optimus urged her. "I don't want either of you to lose your tempers down there and possibly do something you'll both regret."

"Don't worry, Magnus," Sari said with a salute. "I'll be good." She grinned.

Optimus grinned back.


	21. Chapter 21

BlackArachnia was not in a good mood.

Some of the cells were being given a thorough cleaning, for the first time since they'd been given occupants. And so all of the Decepticon prisoners who'd been captured on Earth were moved to different cells at the other end of the complex—one at a time, and at different times, so that the Autobots didn't have to risk dealing with a planned escape attempt.

BlackArachnia hadn't bothered to keep track of exactly how long she'd been confined to her cell, since it seemed like she would be stuck there until further notice. And since the other Decepticons were still being held in their cells as well, she determined that the Autobots still hadn't decided what they wanted to do with them yet. Part of her wondered why they didn't just throw them into the stockade. At least then she'd have the prison all to herself and could have some peace and quiet.

However, she hadn't truly appreciated how good she had it, until this day. Before she was moved, she had the luxury—if you could call it that—of being in a small cell off by itself, where she could have relative privacy. If nothing else, at least she didn't have to put up with anyone staring at her or making cracks about her organic half. The cell had been small, and somewhat dusty, but she had appreciated the privacy.

But now, she had been moved to the opposite end of the complex, into an area where the cells were a bit larger and closer together. Not only that, but the barred windows enabled bots to peek through at the neighboring cell, and whomever might be inside.

BlackArachnia disliked this, especially since she was put right next to Waspinator—and apparently Mixmaster and Scrapper had been placed in the cell on the opposite side of her.

Waspinator wasn't as bad as he could be though, but his constant buzzing and semi-frequent shouting—both to himself and to anyone else within earshot—got on her nerves quite often. She simply made she stayed away from the barred window, not wanting to risk him grabbing her.

As for Mixmaster and Scrapper, well, they could be easily ignored, especially after they got the message that she didn't appreciate them gawking at her and making comments about her slender figure. She was a bit vain and her good looks were one thing that could boost her self-esteem despite being stuck with this organic contamination, but she preferred not to be gawked at unless it was helping her achieve some kind of goal. Right now, she didn't want to be looked at, nor did she want any comments, whether they be praise or rude remarks. She simply wanted to be left alone.

However, things took a turn for the worse when BlackArachnia found out that she was receiving a cellmate. She was not pleased about this, but there wasn't much she could do or say about it. It wasn't like she was a guest here, after all, and this wasn't a hotel, it was a prison.

"Stay back," came the voice of one of the Autobots who worked at the prison. He had a couple of other guards with him, and each of them were aiming their weapons toward BlackArachnia.

The femme shrugged and sat down on the edge of her berth, staking a claim to it. She had been here first, after all, so whoever they were going to put in here with her could have the second berth. BlackArachnia felt like establishing something of a pecking order, even just a small one, if she was going to be forced to share s cell.

Two more guards came into view, pushing forward a tall figure that was incapacitated in stasis cuffs. BlackArachnia raised an optical ridge when she realized who it was, then growled under her breath. "You've got to be kidding me," she muttered.

It was none other than Starscream's fem-bot clone. The guards pushed her into the cell, then one of them removed the stasis cuffs and backed out of the cell, allowing her other escort the close the door. Once that was done, the head guard checked to make sure the cell door was secure, then he turned and walked away, leading the other guards with him.

Slipstream growled and rubbed her wrists warily, glancing around the cell. Her optics settled on BlackArachnia, then narrowed. She knew of the half-organic bot, because they had both been within the same building for some time now, and even though they had not talked directly, Slipstream was still aware of who else was in the building. It wasn't like there was much else to do in prison, after all, so she kept tabs on others as they came and went.

BlackArachnia narrowed her own optics in return, folding her arms and crossing her legs on her berth. The femme clone of Starscream was a bit shorter than her male counterparts, but still taller than most Autobots.

Slipstream made a small "Hmph!" sound, then stamped over to the free berth and plopped down on it, then leaned against the wall, looking away from BlackArachnia. The half-spider looked away as well, staring at the opposite wall. Frankly, if Slipstream wanted to just sit there and ignore her entirely, that suited BlackArachnia just fine.

"HEY!" a voice suddenly shouted, causing both femmes to start a little. Things had been relatively quiet until this point. "COULD WE HAVE SOME OIL IN HERE?" It was the voice of Scrapper, and Mixmaster joined in with a hearty yell of his own, "YEAH WE'RE THIRSTY IN HERE, WE HAVEN'T HAD A GOOD CAN OF OIL FOR MONTHS!"

Slipstream banged her fist against the wall. "BE QUIET IN THERE!" she yelled. Her berth was right next to the wall, and the other cell—with the Constructicons were in—were just on the other side of that wall.

"Not until we get some oil!" Mixmaster persisted.

"You're in prison!" Slipstream scoffed. "This isn't a hotel and you can't call room service."

"This isn't a prison, it's a torture room!" Scrapper responded. "We've been bored out of our skulls for weeks!"

"You wouldn't even be in there if you hadn't gotten drunk and caused trouble," Slipstream snorted. "At least, I think that's what I heard you're in for."

"Yeah well, I'm not even sure why they haven't let me out yet," Scrapper murmured.

"I don't know, I think I heard one of the guards say that you and me are both being kept in here for suspicion, or something like that," Mixmaster said. "I think that those slaggin' Autobot authorities can't make up their minds. We've all been in here for a while now, and they don't seem to wanna let us go or move us to this stockade, whatever that is. So what, are we just gonna rust in here for the rest of our lives?"

"I don't know," replied Scrapper.

"By the way, I wonder what happened to Dirtboss," Mix added.

"Oh who cares," BlackArachnia growled, making an annoyed gesture with her hands.

"I heard he had some sort of breakdown and was moved somewhere else," Slipstream said with a careless shrug.

"Eh well, good riddance," Mix commented.

"Yeah," Scrapper concurred. "He was way to bossy for my liking."

Just then, they heard the sound of approaching footsteps. The head guard came into view and peered into the cell that BlackArachnia and Slipstream shared. "BlackArachnia," the guard said, "you have a visitor."

"Who is it, the Grand Magnus?" BlackArachnia said, almost sneering.

"No, but it is someone who is here to see you on Optimus Magnus's request," the guard replied. Then a small, slim figure stepped into view. It looked like a small fem-bot, smaller than any that BlackArachnia had ever seen before.

"Who is that?" Slipstream inquired, in a tone that was somewhere between mildly curious and slightly bored.

The little femme answered for herself. "Sari Sumdac."

BlackArachnia blinked, then sat up on her berth, narrowing her optics as she peered at the little femme through the door. She hadn't even recognized the girl at first, but she certainly did look very different. "No, this couldn't be the same kid I saw on Earth…" she murmured under her breath.

Sari apparently heard her, because she lowered her helmet and faceplate, revealing her head and face. "Recognize me now?" she asked with a small smile.

Indeed BlackArachnia did recognize her. Her face was slightly more… mature, if it could be put like that, plus her hair was a little shorter, but other than that it was obviously the same girl.

In spite of herself, BlackArachnia was somewhat intrigued—or at the very least, curious. "So Optimus was right," she murmured. "You are part Cybertronian."

Sari smiled again, wider this time. "Yep," she said.

"Another techno-organic?" Slipstream sneered, glancing from Sari to BlackArachnia. "First you and Waspinator, now this little twerp. Pretty soon we'll be surrounded by the infestation."

0o0o0o0o0

Ratchet's servo shook slightly as he continued to look down at the expressionless face of Dreamscreamer. He'd done it; he had completely wiped and reformatted her memory core, right down to her backup hard drive. It would give her a fresh start, so to speak, but more importantly it would guarantee that the virus Nightbird had put in her was completely purged.

"You alright?" came a gentle voice behind him.

The medic turned and saw Arcee standing just inside the doorway. He smiled slightly at the sight of her. "I'm fine, don't you worry about me," he told her, a small smile form on his craggy features.

"But I need to know you're really okay," Arcee persisted, gazing at him with widened optics. Concern was written all over her features.

Ratchet sighed. The fact was, she could feel things from him now that they were spark-bonded. Plus the night they bonded for the first time, they had shared memories and experiences freely between them in their link, and she had seen first-hand how guilty he had felt when she had lost her memory.

On top of that, Arcee was a very perceptive individual in some ways, and a sensitive one. Well, not sensitive in the way that her feelings could be easily hurt; she had been in the war after all, and she was firm when she had to be. But she also had a gentle side, and an empathic one. She could easily tell when someone was feeling hurt or upset or angry. And she was even more sensitive to the feelings of Ratchet now that they were bonded.

Furthermore, Ratchet was also aware that any femme who was carrying a sparkling was even more sensitive to the feelings of others, and a bit more perceptive than normal. It was a factor of nature, so to speak, for the sake of the sparkling, because it played a factor in being able to tell when the sparkling had finished developing within her, and it also helped her detect how well it was faring.

"I guess… it bothers me a bit what I had to do," Ratchet finally said, deciding it was best to be honest with her. "I did this to you once by accident, and now I had to do it to her to save her life." He shook his head. "I know it was necessary this time, but it doesn't make me feel any better." He closed his eyes.

Arcee moved forward and put her arms on his shoulders. In response to her touch, Ratchet pulled her close against his chassis, wrapping his arms around her tightly. However he loosened his grip somewhat after a moment, subconsciously feeling protective of the sparkling. He didn't want to hold her too tightly and risk hindering it in any way.

"It bothers you more than 'a bit'," Arcee whispered to him.

Ratchet stiffened slightly, then relaxed a bit. He felt a warm "glow" within his spark chamber, a presence that wasn't his own. It was his link with Arcee. It was like she had a place inside his spark now—literally and figuratively, and he was in her spark as well.

"Yeah, it does," Ratchet murmured.

"Ratchet, I think I understand what you're feeling," Arcee said, placing a hand on his chassis, right over his spark. He looked straight into his eyes, knowing that she now knew him better than anyone, due to their bond. "You wanted to protect and heal," she went on, never blinking or looking away from him. "Then your EMP generator went off and hurt me."

He nodded, then she continued. "But don't you see? You healed her in this case by doing what you did. It was the only way to get rid of that virus."

"But it didn't just purge the virus, it purged her memories and her personality," Ratchet said. "She will live, but she will never be who she was ever again. Did I really save her, or did I kill her in a way?"

"Don't talk like that!" Arcee said, shaking her head. "Besides, this isn't the first time a bot has had to have their memory core wiped. There have been instances in the past where some bots had to reformat their hard drives due to a serious malfunction or if they were damaged beyond repair. Or in some cases," she inclined Dreamscreamer slightly with a tip of her head, "it was because of a virus."

"Yes, I know," Ratchet nodded. He was a medic after all, and he had read about cases similar to Dreamscreamer's. But this was the only case he'd had to deal with personally.

"Then think of it this way," Arcee went on, "we can help her recover."

"'We'?" Ratchet echoed, wondering what she meant.

His mate looked over at Dreamscreamer. "She's still young," Arcee said. "And even though I got my memory back, I can relate to having to get caught up, in a way. I missed millions of stellar cycles. She will be starting out as a child again, so to speak, but physically she's too old to simply put with new Sparklings who are just starting out."

Arcee looked back at Ratchet again. "I think we can handle having two younglings to look after… don't you?"

Ratchet's optics widened. "Are you suggesting we adopt her and retrain her?" he asked.

Arcee nodded, her optics brightening. Then, before Ratchet could say anything, she leaned in and pressed her mouth against his, kissing him hard.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Prowl had chosen to retire to his home for a few hours of undisturbed meditation. He wasn't really needed anywhere at the moment, and he wanted to try and relax after everything that had happened.

Having locked the door, he went into his bedroom and sat down on the floor just in front of his berth, bending his legs into his standard meditative stance. He then rested his servos on his lap and stared off into the distance, hoping to center himself.

Frankly, everything that had happened on that planet disturbed him more than he'd thought it would. Though at the same time, he wasn't sure why. Was it because now he couldn't be sure if his spark had come from Autobot parents? He had to admit… part of him couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if he hadn't been taken from the Decepticons. If he was in fact a Decepticon who'd been raised as an Autobot… he could have been very, very different indeed, if he hadn't been taken in by the Autobots.

The symbol on his chassis makes all the difference, he thought, subconsciously fingering it with one of his hands. Or does it? Am I actually a Decepticon, despite the insignia and despite my proven loyalties?

For some reason it simply seemed very confusing to him right now. Then again, that just seemed to be the way his life was in general. Apparently he had been taken away from the Decepticons, whom he had originated with, and taken in by the Autobots. And it wasn't until Yoketron had taken him under his wing that Prowl actually felt he had a place, and someone who actually cared about him. Then Prowl not only failed his most important test in his ninja training, but he lost his master and all of the protoforms were lost during a Decepticon raid.

After a million stellar cycles Prowl had, quite by chance, ended up stuck with Optimus and his crew, and then later marooned on Earth, as one of the protectors of the Allspark. Then Prowl had eventually managed to further his training and discover who had lead the attack. As a result, Prowl now wore his master's helmet, and had completed his training for the most part.

And yet, despite all of the progress he'd made, something still seemed to be missing. Not only that, but the most recent events left him disturbed and confused about his Decepticon heritage.

Why did it always seem like every single time he felt he had found his place, and the right way to go, things had to change so abruptly? It almost seemed like fate had a way of trying to keep him down or something. Why was it that every time he seemed to be getting somewhere, something happened so that he was no longer sure of himself or what he was doing?

"Because," a familiar voice spoke softly but firmly in his mind, "this way you can continue to improve all your life. Once you have learned one lesson or succeeded in mastering a challenge, it's time to move onto something more complex. Much like how a Sparkling must first learn the basics of addition and subtraction before moving onto multiplying and dividing."

Prowl was looking around frantically, trying to see where the voice was coming from. Only he didn't seem to be in his room anymore. In fact, everything seemed to be pitch black, and he almost wondered if he had slipped into a stasis nap.

"The more you learn, the more complicated the next lesson becomes, that is all there is to it," the familiar voice, which sounded very much like Yoketron, went on. It had been a long time since Prowl had heard it, but he still remembered it very well.

"Master Yoketron?" Prowl asked, still looking around. He still couldn't see anything in the darkness.

Suddenly, a figure appeared before Prowl, and it was none other than his late master. Gasping with surprise, Prowl moved toward him, reaching out to touch him to make certain he was real. However, his servo simply went through air, as though it were simply a hologram.

"You cannot touch me, because I am not really here," Yoketron told him. "I am only here… in spirit."

"What is going on?" Prowl demanded. "How is that you are here? And where am I?"

"You are having a vision," Yoketron told him. A slow smile crossed his aged features. "By the way, that helmet looks good on you."

Prowl's optics widened, and he found himself feeling flattered by the praise, especially in the way that Yoketron had said it. His master had the tone of a teacher praising a student who'd done well… or perhaps even a father who was praising his son. "T-thank you," was all he could say.

Yoketron's smile widened, then quickly faded. His expression, as well as his tone, turned serious. "Prowl, the reason I am here is because you have already taken the next step in your training."

"Next step?" Prowl echoed. "I thought I had completed my training, or that I was very close to it at least."

"Don't you remember what I taught you? You never truly stop learning, even when you are finished with school." Yoketron inclined his head slightly. "Even if you had completed your training under me and succeeded in your optics quest all those stellar cycles ago, you would have still learned new things, you would have simply learned them in different ways. Sometimes, you teach yourself things simply by realizing things you hadn't realized before, or by learning to think of things in a new way. You also learn through experience, and through many different individuals."

"Are you saying… I am still learning something new, right now?" Prowl asked.

Yoketron nodded. "I'd say you already have. I am simply helping you along with it, as much as I can. But some things you still need to figure out for yourself. I can't do everything for you; some things can only be learned by finding your way to do it on your own."

"Then what am I learning through this?"

The aged cyber ninja master smiled. "What do you think? You tell me, Prowl."

Prowl frowned. He wasn't entirely sure where this was going, or what he was supposed to say. And part of him feared giving the wrong answer. He wanted to think that he had surpassed this sort of thing, where he was treated as a pupil. Was he really still so ignorant on some things that he still had to figure some things out, and keep learning? He'd wanted to think that he was more on equal footing with his master now, so that Yoketron could spell things out directly, not have him play guessing games.

Thankfully, Yoketron chose to give him a hint. "Prowl, you are doing it right now. Think about it. What are you doing, at this moment?"

Prowl answered immediately. "I am talking to you… in a vision."

Yoketron nodded. "So?" he prompted.

That was when something clicked in Prowl's processor. "Is this it?" he asked, and gasped as a realization dawned on him. "Are you saying… I have learned to… commune with the dead?"

Now his master smiled. "You have accessed the ability to commune with those who reside in the Well of All Sparks," he told his apprentice. "In your first time doing it, it is only natural that it would be easier to call out to someone who you knew and liked very well. Such as myself." He placed a hand on his chassis for emphasis, then dropped his arm.

"Wait, are you saying I called out to you?" Prowl asked, puzzled. "I thought that you decided to contact me for some reason."

Yoketron shook his head. "No you had to call out to me first," he said. "We are communicating through your own, natural ability for the most part, Prowl, although I am lending you a servo a little, since you are new at this. But had you not called out to me, we would not be having this discussion right now."

Prowl felt his spark pulsing within his chest in excitement and awe. If this was really true—if he could really contact his master all on his own—it meant that he had a whole new way of communicating. Perhaps he could learn to communicate with other individuals from the past as well.

"How far does this ability extend?" Prowl asked curiously.

"Depending on how far you develop it, it can be limitless," Yoketron answered. "It is said that it is even possible to commune with individuals in the distant future."

Prowl's optics widened.

"But," Yoketron snipped, his voice becoming very stern all of a sudden, "such a talent must not be used recklessly. There are times when a cyber ninja must remain silent on anything he hears or sees." Yoketron hesitated, almost as though he was thinking of saying something else, but thought better of it.

"What is it?" Prowl pressed.

"It is not important."

"No, I want to know," Prowl pressed. He wasn't sure why he was pressing. Perhaps it was because he wanted as much information as possible about all of this. Or maybe it was because it had been so long since he'd seen his master, he wanted as much knowledge and guidance as he could offer, especially now that Prowl realized he really needed it.

"Well," Yoketron said, "there was one instance where it was determined that a powerful cyber ninja should be put to death for the knowledge he had accessed, but that was only one instance, and it was simply because he had chosen to try and use his foresight for selfish advantages. Thankfully though, we had become aware of his plans before he could fulfill them, so we were able to act first. And fortunately, that sort of thing has never happened again."

Yoketron waved a hand. "But that is in the past. Right now, you must focus on the present. And you must be very careful, Prowl. And very responsible."

"I will," Prowl promised, lowering his head in a combination of a nod and a slight bow.

His master said nothing. In fact, he seemed to be looking staring off into space, either that or looking at something Prowl couldn't see.

"What is it?" Prowl asked after a moment of silence.

Yoketron didn't answer. Instead he simply focused his attention on Prowl again and said, "You have progressed very far, Prowl, but you still have a long way to go." He smiled. "We will speak again, but I must go now."

Prowl was about to protest, but suddenly Yoketron was gone and Prowl found himself back in his room. That is, he was aware of being in his room again; he realized that he'd never left it at all.

He sat there in complete stillness for several moments, processing everything that had just happened. He felt… excitement over everything he'd just heard and experienced, but at the same time he felt a bit of fear as well.

He still remembered what had happened when he had borrowed modifications from Lockdown, during their partnership to find Starscream. He simply hoped he could stay in control of himself this time, in case anything unforeseen happened while he was exploring and developing this newly found ability of his.


	22. Chapter 22

Prowl gently fingered the leaves of his small potted bush as he checked the soil to make certain it had enough water and nutrients. It was the one organic life form from his room at the plant on Earth that he'd taken with him, and he did his best to care for it. He kept it in his room and had even installed a solar light in the ceiling so that it would have all the light it needed.

There were times when Prowl missed his tree back in his old room on that other world. He enjoyed taking care of it, climbing into its branches when he wanted to be alone, or simply admiring it sometimes. But unfortunately, there was no way to easily move a tree of such mass from one planet to another, and the tree was much better off right where it was.

So he contented himself by caring for the potted bush, admiring it in the light of the room and running his fingertips over it. The touch-sensors in his servos could feel textures much like human hands could, although part of him felt that he'd never be able to experience the sensations of touching a plant, or even smelling it, the way an organic could.

In many ways, he felt that organics didn't even come close to appreciating what they had, at all. He sighed softly. It was times like this when he really missed nature on Earth. On Cybertron he could not slip off into the forest and lose himself in the sounds of birds and the gentle sound of the breeze disturbing the leaves, grass and branches. Everything in the forest made sounds, which his sensitive audios could pick up on. Maybe he even heard some things that humans could not.

He smiled slightly as he continued to travel down memory lane, as humans would put it. He still remembered the first time he'd witnessed Autumn—or Fall, as Sari called it—on Earth. He'd gradually began to notice that the colors on the trees were changing, and then the tree in his room had started to do it as well. At first he had been puzzled and concerned, wondering if something terrible had happened to all the trees in Detroit, which almost sent him into a mild frenzy. He had to know if there was something that could be done to keep the trees from losing their leaves, and to turn them green again. He hadn't known much about trees at that point, but he knew that healthy trees had green leaves.

Then, as the memory continued, he thought of the conversation he'd had with Sari about that, a conversation that somehow seemed long ago now:

"Prowl," Sari had said, "this is called Fall. It's when the trees turn pretty colors and then all the leaves fall off. It's their way of preparing for Winter."

Prowl had cocked his head to one side and asked, "What is Winter?"

"It's when it gets really cold outside and snow falls from the sky," Sari replied. Then she got a curious look on her face as though a realization dawned on her. "Wait a minute," she said, "don't you guys have seasons on Cybertron?"

That pretty much lead to a discussion that compared their two planets and Sari had found out that Cybertron did not have seasons like Earth did, and Prowl had become more fascinated with Earth than ever. The ninja bot had been enamored to learn that there were four seasons, and nature and human society alike did things to preparing for the coming and going in the climate change of each season.

During the Winter, trees and some species' of animals went into hibernation, while other plants and insects died off, leaving roots, seeds and eggs behind to sleep through the Winter until it was warm enough to hatch or begin growing.

You want to go back there, don't you?

Prowl started as a familiar "voice" drifted into his processor again. "Yoketron?" he said aloud. He hadn't noticed that he'd forgotten to say "Master", but Yoketron didn't seem to care anyway.

Yes, it is I.

"Have I… reached out to you again?" Prowl asked in confusion. As far as he knew, he was simply daydreaming a little and thinking back on Earth, he was not meditating or even trying to tap into his new gift.

Somehow, even though Prowl couldn't see his master, he sensed a smile from the old sensei. Then his "voice" said: Let's just put it this way. Now that you have discovered the ability within yourself and opened it up, it also enables me to speak with you should I choose to.

"You mean, I'm more receptive to you now?" Prowl asked, moving away from the potted plant on his desk and sitting down on the floor.

Exactly.

A brief moment of silence passed, during which time Prowl realized that he not only heard Yoketron when the sensei spoke, but could feel his presence even when he was silent. It wasn't like seeing him exactly, and there was nothing tangible about it, it was simply like being aware that Yoketron's mind/spirit was there.

There were really no words to describe the experience. It was all on a spiritual level, he realized; he could hear Yoketron without his audios picking up on any sound, he could feel Yoketron without touching him and without being able to touch him, and he was simply aware of Yoketron being "nearby", if that was the right terminology. Yoketron was not really there of course, he was in the Well of All Sparks. It was simply that Prowl had somehow found a way to "connect" with Yoketron within the Well. Perhaps it could be compared to opening up a new kind of commlink, only this could not be done with mere mechanisms, it had to be done through the spark, on a spiritual and mental level.

So why are you contacting me? Prowl thought, choosing to focus all of his mental energy on strengthening the link. Plus there was really no reason to speak aloud anyway.

Because it is time for you to know something.

What is it? Prowl asked.

Yoketron hesitated, and Prowl couldn't be sure if the elder bot was slightly nervous or simply trying to get his thoughts together, or perhaps a combination of both. Finally though, Yoketron responded: There is another… aspect of your newfound ability that you haven't realized yet, and that I haven't told you.

Prowl blinked. Like what? Master, what is it?

Yoketron seemed to swallow nervously. In some ways it was a little unnerving for Prowl, for his master to seem so nervous. Yoketron had always been well centered and confident in his abilities, (although never egotistical) so somehow, it just didn't seem like him to be nervous, unless this was something very dangerous and serious.

Just as you have the ability to commune with those in the Well of All Sparks, Yoketron finally told him, slowly and carefully, you also have the ability to… commune with those in the Pit.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

BlackArachnia shifted her position a little, stretching her legs and flexing her arms over her head. It sure felt good to be out of that cell and in a fairly large room for once. She was seated at a table in a room that was designed for prisoners to meet with guests, although most of the time the reason for the visit had to be important or they had to have a bigwig vouching for them in order for them to use this room. Otherwise, guests usually had to speak to the prisoners by standing outside of cell of the person they were seeing.

In this case though, apparently Optimus had placed some importance on this visit. And so Sari had, presumably, asked to speak to BlackArachnia alone and said that the Magnus had authorized it. The guards would have no doubt checked in with Optimus to confirm it, then went ahead with this after receiving the confirmation.

The little techno-organic was seated in the chair across from BlackArachnia. Sari's head and shoulders came up above the table and she had her small hands folded on the tabletop. Since both seats were the same size, BlackArachnia knew that there must have been something on Sari's seat—perhaps a box or something—to give the little femme that extra "boost" so she could sit evenly at, what was for her, a huge table.

"So are they actually trying to find a way to remove this cursed organic contamination?" BlackArachnia growled, breaking the silence.

"You know, being part organic really isn't that bad," Sari said.

"Of course it's not," BlackArachnia grumbled. "If it was, I wouldn't be alive. But I don't like what I am and I want to go back to being the way I was before my contamination."

"Hey I can't go back to being the way I was," Sari said. "But there's no going back for me either, and I like what I am."

BlackArachnia snorted. "Easy for you to say, you're just a kid and you became something better, in your own way."

"Well you know it wasn't exactly a picnic for me to find out I was really a robot," Sari told the larger femme. "I didn't know what I was or anything, until Prowl figured out I must have been a protoform. Though I still don't know where I came from or how I got on Earth." She shrugged. "But hey, if I could accept being like this, so can you."

"And have Autobots jeering at me for the rest of my life? No thanks, kiddo."

"Not all of them would," Sari persisted. "I made five Autobot friends on Earth, remember? One of them being Optimus. They accepted me when we all thought I was a full human, and they still accept me now. I know some people like that jerk Sentinel never accepted you, but others would." As soon as that last sentence left her mouth, Sari remembered that there was something else she had to tell BlackArachnia, and she suddenly felt a little sheepish over her thoughtless slip. She wasn't ready to talk about Sentinel yet.

"Yeah well, the majority is still against organics," BlackArachnia muttered. "You just wait, they will eventually put me on some lab table and see what makes me tick. I'll be the latest amusement for scientists, their little lab drone."

"Hello, you've been stuck in here for months," Sari said. "I think if they were going to do that, they would have done it already. And you know, Optimus has really been doing a lot to protect you."

"Small favors," BlackArachnia spat.

Now Sari growled. "You know, people are trying to help you but you just won't give them a chance!"

"Why should I? I was abandoned, left all alone on that cursed organic planet, living like a savage and eating other spiders until the Decepticons finally found me. Then I became one of them, and they looked at me with disgust because of the appalling habits I developed from being alone and around spiders for so long!"

BlackArachnia's voice had gotten shriller as she came to the end of her rant, to the point where she was almost screaming. She paused for a moment, noting that Sari was staring at her with widened eyes. Then, after sucking in a breath, BlackArachnia went on, in a more controlled tone. "So don't you compare your life to me. You didn't get left behind by your two best friends, just to spent hundreds of stellar cycles stuck in the company of organic beasts, feeding off of them and living with them, learning their habits to the point where you hiss and claw just like they do."

BlackArachnia smacked her palm against the tabletop, then rose and began to pace the room. "I am a freak," she muttered. "You are as well," she spat, pausing in her pacing just long enough to narrow her eyes at Sari. "You just got lucky. You are the same as me but you didn't know what you were when your body got contaminated with your organic half. So you were raised human, and you at least at the benefits of being raised in a civilized society. You didn't spend stellar cycles living like a mindless animal!"

Sari simply sat there watching her with widened eyes, stunned. She obviously hadn't known just how bad BlackArachnia's life had been at all, but nobody did. And something inside BlackArachnia had simply snapped when the young girl had dared to tell her that being half-spider wasn't really all that bad. Frankly, the implication that she should simply suck it up and get on with her life was insulting to BlackArachnia.

"I…" Sari eventually gulped. "I'm sorry, I didn't know it was that bad." She sounded sympathetic and looked a little guilty.

In truth, BlackArachnia did not want any pity, not unless she could use it to obtain her goal. But she felt pleased at the guilt aspect. Yes, let Sari feel guilty, let them all feel guilty, just so the she-spider could have some satisfaction in knowing that others were feel some kind of pain as well. That was what BlackArachnia took pleasure in, at least somewhat.

"So unlike you," the blue-and-black femme went on, "I don't have anything to look back on fondly or be grateful for."

Sari lowered her gaze and then looked away entirely for a moment. She now understood just how much she had misunderstood BlackArachnia's attitude toward the problem. It seemed that BlackArachnia had not only had a very hard time over the past few hundred stellar cycles, she was also deeply ashamed of what she had become while she was stranded on that planet, so long ago. She carried the burden of shame, plus a fear of being shunned and rejected by her peers… which had already been done, to some extent.

"No wonder you joined the Decepticons," Sari muttered.

BlackArachnia didn't answer. In truth, it could be said that the Decepticons rescued her from that planet, when the Autobots hadn't. Plus had been partially coerced into joining their ranks, since they found her useful to them. But it could also be said that she'd chosen, at least somewhat, to shun the Autobots before they had a chance to shun her.

"Look… I think I understand better now," Sari finally said, stroking the edge of the table with her fingers as she spoke. "I mean I can't understand completely, but I think I get why you're really having a hard time."

"You still don't know the half of it," BlackArachnia spat. "Not until you've actually gone through it yourself." She then gestured around the room. "And now, I have been spending the past few months cooped up in this building, like an animal, until everyone can decide what they're going to do with me."

"Well if you hadn't betrayed Optimus so many times, maybe they'd go a little easier on you," Sari pointed out. "And like I said, he's been protecting you, you know."

"Then why hasn't he gotten me out of here?"

"I think it might be for your own safety in some ways. You know, you've got that Decepticon symbol on you, plus you're part organic. Considering how bots around here feel about Decepticons and organics… you're probably better off being in here."

BlackArachnia said nothing. In truth she knew that the girl had a point, but she wasn't about to admit it. She also wasn't about to admit that in some ways, she almost preferred being locked away while she was on Cybertron, at least until her organic contamination could be cleansed, because that way she didn't have to put up with the comments or jeers from Autobots. She could, however, handle the snide remarks from the Decepticons and even from the guards, because that was almost expected in some ways.

"Oh yeah, and there's something else I have to tell you," Sari said with a sincerity that caused the taller femme to turn and look at her. "It's about Sentinel. Megatron killed him."

BlackArachnia blinked, unsure if she'd heard that correctly at first. "Sentinel is dead?" she murmured. "Well, good riddance." She waved a hand in a dismissive gesture.

Sari blinked. "That's all you have to say?" she said, half-rising by pressing her hands on the table and pushing herself up with her arms. "Hey I know Sentinel was a jerk, but… wasn't he your friend once?"

"Yeah, back when I was all bot. But ever since he said those things to me on Earth…" BlackArachnia shook her head. "He deserves what he got."

Sari said nothing. She couldn't think of anything to say, and in many ways she did feel sorry for BlackArachnia, but at the same time she felt more and more disgusted with her and the way this entire discussion was going. Apparently, BlackArachnia just didn't want to change or see reason. She had trapped herself within her own opinion and ideals, and the only thing that might cause her to change is if she could get rid of her organic half somehow.

Sari was so tempted to just get up and leave. It seemed like that was all BlackArachnia wanted anyway, for everyone to leave her alone and let her have her attitude, and the only hope whatsoever she had was the dream that she would one day be fully bot again. But Sari knew she couldn't leave yet, because she had one last thing to do, on Optimus's request.

"I… might be able to help," Sari said slowly, almost hesitantly. "When I upgraded myself with my key, I got this new power where I can scan things—and Cybertronians—and I can figure out what's wrong with them and how to fix them." She slowly looked up at BlackArachnia. "If you'll let me, I can try."

The half-spider slowly turned to look at her, folding her arms across her chest. Then she gave a small shrug, a gesture that suggested she was thinking, "Why not? I'll humor you." Then she said, "How does this work?"

"Just hold out your hand to me," Sari told her.

BlackArachnia hesitated for a moment, then slowly held out her servo to the little femme. Sari placed her own hand on top of it then closed her eyes, concentrating as she scanned BlackArachnia's systems. After a moment, Sari's eyes popped open, widening.

"Uh oh," the red-haired girl said, withdrawing her hand.

BlackArachnia blinked. "What?"

0o0o0o0o0o0

Ratchet left Dreamscreamer under the watchful care of Red Alert as he went to attend to other matters. Red Alert still bore the scars of her ill-fated encounter with the Decepticon Spittor all those months ago, but she seemed to have recovered… on the outside at least. But she was still able to do her job, plus there wasn't much that could be done for Dreamscreamer at the moment anyway, except keep an eye on her vitals and alert Ratchet when she woke up.

Arcee had left several cycles ago to fill out some screenwork so that she and Ratchet could officially take in Dreamscreamer. Essentially, they were adopting the young femme. And considering the fact that many bots had suffered in the war already, and there were already too many younglings without suitable guardians to count, Ratchet doubted that there would be much hassle or trouble in the matter. Both Ratchet and Arcee were well-known and respected, so the bots who were in charge of this sort of thing would probably feel they were good enough to look after Dreamscreamer. Plus if they took in Dreamscreamer, that would be one less bot they would have to worry about or find a guardian/caretaker for, so to speak.

Anyway, Ratchet was confident that Arcee could take care of those matters, and that Dreamscreamer herself was in good hands at the moment, so he headed off to the energon dispenser to refuel himself. In fact he was more low on energy than he'd thought, because he'd ended up downing four energon cubes before he even realized it. Then, after finishing two more, he headed back the way he came, feeling refreshed.

As he passed by one of the smaller rooms—specifically, one of the small laboratories—he heard what sounded like arguing going on within the room. Curious and concerned, he poked his head into the room and saw Hoist and Preceptor discussing something.

"Hey, what gives?" Ratchet asked out loud, stepping into the room. "What is going on in here?"

Both bots glanced up toward Ratchet as he spoke.

"Eh, we're still trying to figure out a way to cleanse BlackArachnia of her organic contamination," Hoist replied. "Magnus's orders."

"Ah I see," Ratchet said. Indeed he knew of that. "So how's it going?"

"We have been going over several possibilities, but thus far we have not been very successful," Preceptor deadpanned in his standard monotone.

"But it sounded like you two were arguing over something," Ratchet persisted. "What was it?"

Preceptor and Hoist exchanged glances. Finally, Hoist spoke up, telling Ratchet what they had been arguing about. And when he finished, Ratchet's optics widened to their fullest, then narrowed with anger.

"You have to be kidding me," Ratchet growled.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Starscream had been sitting in the waiting room of the Autobot hospital for quite some time, and was getting more and more restless. Had everyone forgotten about him, or was this actually some sort of unofficial holding cell until they could figure out what to do with him?

Although the room was a bit too nice to be a holding room of any kind. In fact it was actually quite comfortable all things considered, with decent lounge seats and a table that had a small pile of rich energon cubes stacked on it. Starscream had indulged in a few because they were tasty treats and he wanted to keep his energy up, but he didn't take too many. After all, he wanted to be clear-minded when he was brought before the Autobot Council… if that was indeed where he was being taken next.

Or what if it was simply a deception? Suppose they were just holding him here until they could bring in guards to haul him off to prison, possibly even the stockade? If that were the case, perhaps he should try and make his escape.

Then again, if he was truly going to speak with the Autobot council, then escaping and running away would not look good on his part. Frankly, the way things were right now, he had more of a chance of retaining his freedom and gaining some sort of position if he stayed with—and cooperated with—the Autobots.

So for the time being, he would simply stay put and continue to wait. But if it seemed that they were simply going to ship him off to the stockade, he would make his escape.

Just then the door opened and an Autobot stepped inside. Starscream raised an optical ridge—it was a femme, and a nice-looking one at that. "I take it you are Starscream," she said by way of greeting.

Starscream smirked, looking her over. "That I am," he said.

"I am Chromia, and I am here to escort you to the Council chambers," the femme said.

"Finally!" Starscream said, rising. "It's about time. Lead on."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Earth was exactly like it had been when Megatron had left it. He now stood peering out the forward window of Omega Supreme at the blue-and-white planet below. He narrowed his optics at the sight. This was the world that had held him prisoner for over a stellar cycle, and it seemed that fate had led him back to it.

"I think," Megatron murmured out loud, "once we have Soundwave safely aboard, we should give Omega Supreme's weapons a field test to make sure everything is fully operational." He smirked. "This time, I will successfully devastate the city which held me prisoner."


	23. Chapter 23

I can… commune with those in the Pit? Prowl asked in response to his master's words, startled. He sensed Yoketron nod. So why are you telling me this? He wanted to know.

Yoketron sighed softly. Because I must ask you to speak with someone who is there.

Can't you speak to this person yourself? Prowl asked. In some ways, he did not have much interest in speaking to those who resided in the Pit. Wasn't that where all of the bad and wicked bots went, such as the Decepticons and Autobot traitors, when they went offline?

Primus has forbidden those of us who reside in the Well of All Sparks to commune with those who reside in the Pit, came Yoketron's reply. And no one in the Pit may commune with anyone here in the Well.

So you are asking me to? Prowl deduced.

Yes. You still reside in the living world, a plane which exists between the Well and the Pit, so the rules are different for you, so long as you still reside there.

I see. Prowl frowned, falling silent. After a moment, he asked another question. Just who is it you wish me to speak to… and why?

Yoketron's answer was immediate. Sentinel Prime.

Prowl blinked. Sentinel? But why?

Because something is about to happen, Yoketron answered. He is going to be given a second chance, and he needs to be prepared for it.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"I… I don't know how to explain this," Sari gulped, "but there's something in your body."

BlackArachnia's eyes narrowed. "If this is some crack about my organic half—" she started to warn, but Sari interrupted.

"No, it's… I think you've been poisoned or something."

"Poisoned?" BlackArachnia said, startled. She glanced down at herself, flexing her arms experimentally. "But I feel fine," she said. "Either you're lying to me, or this is some sort of trick!"

"No, it's not a trick!" Sari said a bit indignantly, placing her hands on her hips. "I'm not sure what it is, I've never seen anything like it. But it seems like… something is spreading throughout your systems. Right now it's dormant, and that's why you don't feel a thing, because it's not doing anything yet. But once it finishes spreading to all the parts in your body… it's gonna activate, like a triggered virus."

BlackArachnia gulped. She still wasn't sure if she was buying this, but it was better to be safe than sorry. "What is it going to do?" she asked.

"I'm not really sure, but I think it's gonna poison or kill your organic half somehow," Sari answered.

"But that might kill me!" BlackArachnia exclaimed. As much as she wanted her organic half gone, she also knew full well that in her current state, she couldn't survive without it. It had to be removed safely. But if she was poisoned, or if it was killed off abruptly… she would die.

"I need to go talk to Optimus or Ratchet," Sari said, standing up and leaping off of the chair and landing lightly on the floor. "Just… don't do anything, and I'll try to be back soon," she said over her shoulder. She then rushed toward the door, indicating she wanted to be let out.

The guards came in, letting Sari out and escorted BlackArachnia back to her cell, where Slipstream was having a shouting match with Waspinator over something, and the Constructicons were still griping about not having any oil. Once the guards left, BlackArachnia simply collapsed on her berth and covered her ears/audio sensors. Why did she have a feeling that this was going to be a long day?

0o0o0o0o0o0

Sari used her jetpack to back to the hospital on fairly short notice, and just as she came up to the entrance, she spotted Ratchet heading out, in his vehicle mode.

"Ratchet!" she called out, flying after him. He came to a halt and transformed into robot mode, turning to look at her.

"Ratchet, something's wrong with BlackArachnia," Sari told him as she landed on the ground. "It seems like—"

"I already know, kiddo," Ratchet said. "I already know."

Sari blinked. "You do? How?"

"Hoist told me," the medic answered. "Hop in, I'll explain on the way."

Sari got in right as soon as Ratchet opened his door for her, then she strapped herself in. "Where are we going?" she asked.

"To see Optimus." With that, Ratchet started up his engines and took off down the roadway.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Once Soundwave was safely onboard Omega Supreme, along with his minions, Megatron gave the order for firing to commence on the planet's surface. And it was then that giant bolts of pure energy shot out of the ship, pouring down on the city of Detroit like deadly rain.

And one of the areas that got hit the worst was the area where Sumdac Tower resided. Megatron smirked, wishing he could have been closer to the sight, to personally witness the destruction and fall of that cursed tower.

While the ship was still wrecking havoc on the planet's surface, Megatron turned toward Soundwave. "I presume you have it with you?"

Soundwave nodded. "I have the package, right here." He held a metal box out toward his master.

"Very good," Megatron said, taking the box into his servos and looking it over. Then very slowly, he opened it up and peered inside. "Excellent," he said, nodding in approval. "Once we are finished with our business on this puny planet," he said, closing the box and gesturing toward the forward window, "I am going to have a talk with our loyal cyber ninjas, Oil Slick and Nightbird."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Starscream tensed slightly as he walked in through the entrance to the Council Chamber, following Chromia.

As he entered, he saw that most of the council was there, although it looked like the one called Preceptor had just barely arrived. The Decepticons knew something of him because he was the one who designed Omega Supreme. But something about him made Starscream uneasy. It was almost as though the Autobot was completely devoid of emotion.

Just then, the familiar red-and-white Autobot drove into the Council Chamber, skidding to a screeching halt just inside the doorway. Heads turned curiously in his direction; obviously this Autobot had not been invited.

"Ratchet, what are you doing here?" Optimus Magnus asked. He stood up in the balcony, holding the Magnus hammer in his right servo, peering down at the scene.

"I came here to speak to the Council, about some disturbing news I've just learned," Ratchet said.

Preceptor frowned ever so slightly, then the expression vanished so that his face resumed its standard, unemotional look.

"Ratchet, you were not invited to this meeting," Alpha Trion pointed out. He sounded somewhat annoyed, but he didn't exactly sound dismissive, either.

"With all due respect," Ratchet said, transforming into his robot mode once he was certain Sari was out of him, "I have some news that may interest the Magnus. It's about BlackArachnia."

"What about BlackArachnia?" Optimus asked, leaning forward with a frown. Heads turned to glance at him, then back toward Ratchet. A lot of bots—especially all of the Council members—knew that the half-spider femme was under the Magnus's protection, so they knew that this would interest him indeed.

Preceptor shifted his position ever so slightly, but no one noticed. The movement had been so slight that everyone else in the room may not have noticed it even if they had been staring directly at him.

"It seems that Preceptor, as well as one or two other bots, decided it was a good idea to poison BlackArachnia."

A silence fell, and several bots exchanged glances. Starscream raised his optical ridges, eyes widening. However, he chose to stay silent and simply observe and listen. That was one way gain advantages and ascertain a situation, after all; to be silent and observe.

"Preceptor, is this true?" Optimus said, turning to gaze at the other bot.

However, it was Alpha Trion who spoke up. "Optimus Magnus, to be truthful… the Council already knows about this."

Sari's and Ratchet's jaws dropped in unison, and Optimus did a double-take. "Come again?" Optimus said.

"Actually it started when Preceptor's assistant acted on his own initiative without telling anyone," Alpha Trion went on. "We were going to bring this to your attention, Magnus, and soon. We have already given Preceptor's aide a reprimand and relieved him of duty for what he has done." He sighed. "In fact we were going to tell you about this during this meeting."

"So why did your aide poison her?" Optimus demanded, looking at Preceptor again.

Preceptor answered this time. "We have been dealing with the possibility that organic contamination may continue to occur, despite the fact that organic planets are largely off-limits, with the exception of Earth. So we were experimenting with possible ways to deal with this complication, especially in light of BlackArachnia's wishes."

"But what does poisoning her solve?" Optimus asked, narrowing his optics. "Unless one of your plans was to simply kill those with the contamination."

"No," Alpha Trion said. "Magnus, it's not exactly a poison, although perhaps it could be called that because it enters the body like a venom. But it spreads throughout the body harmlessly at first, until it has finished spreading as far as it can go. Then it triggers itself."

"And what does it do once it's triggered?" Optimus asked.

"Apparently," Ratchet spoke up, his standard gruff voice sounding even more peeved than usual, "it's a concoction of nanites that spread through the Cybertronian body in the body's own fluids, and they multiply and attach themselves to the organic tissues all throughout. Then, once they are activated… they are apparently designed to disintegrate the tissues while simultaneously rebuilding and replacing them with substitute and equivalent metal and mechanical components."

"In other words, it eats away the organic half while replacing and repairing the robotic half?" Optimus summarized, making sure he understood correctly.

"Exactly," Alpha Trion nodded. "In his lab, Preceptor and his assistant had been experimenting on lab drones, and it seemed promising. But they were far from ready to administer it to a live subject."

"My assistant was so eager to test it out, he acted on impulse," Preceptor chimed in. "And so he arranged to have a sample of the nanites put into the energon BlackArachnia consumed in her cell, just two solar cycles ago. We did not realize this until a few mega-cycles ago, which was when we reprimanded my assistant and removed him from active duty."

"My techno-organic companion scanned her, and found that the nanites are almost finished spreading throughout her," Ratchet spoke up. "So what happens if these nanites trigger and it ends up doing more harm than did?"

"Indeed, what if it kills her?" Optimus said.

"There is little we can do at this point," Alpha Trion said with a sad shake of his head.

"However, we now have another problem," Preceptor said.

"What is it?" Optimus asked.

"It is possible the nanites can spread via personal contact," the scientist answered.

Ratchet was the first one to deduce just what he meant. He immediately took out his medical scanner and ran it over Sari. He scanned her over a couple of times, then sucked in a breath. "Oh crud," he muttered. "Sari… you've been contaminated with the nanites."

Sari gasped, taking a step back. "W-what?" she exclaimed.

Ratchet nodded, keeping his eyes on his scanner readouts. "It's true… they are slowly but surely spreading throughout your system right now. And since you're a lot smaller than BlackArachnia… they'll probably be finished spreading a lot sooner than they did in her."

0o0o0o0o0o0

Yoketron had fallen silent, and then his presence within Prowl's spark/mind faded until Prowl realized that the sensei was gone.

The black-mech had to admit, at least to himself, that he was afraid. Contacting someone whom he had known and loved like a father in the Well of All Sparks was one thing. But what he was about to do now was contact someone he didn't like… and, as the humans might say, he was about to contact that someone in the Depths of Hell.

Nevertheless he was determined to try, since apparently this was an important task. So he drew in a deep breath and turned off his optics, concentrating deeply and clearing his mind. He knew that this would take a lot of discipline and self-control, because this would not be easy.


	24. Chapter 24

"Perceptor!" ordered Optimus, "Get a team of medics and take Sari to a surgery room. Monitor her vitals and do anything to keep her alive! Be sure to get BlackArachnia t-" The Magnus was interrupted by a video transmission on his panel. Although only he could see the screen, everyone else in the chamber could hear the audio perfectly.

"Optimus Magnus sir! The prisoner BlackArachnia is suffering from some sort of convulsion!" said a frantic guard. Sure enough another video popped up and showed the twitching femme on the ground, with a confused Slipstream on a berth behind her.

"Send her to the Iacon Mercy Hospital immediately and report to Perceptor." the leader replied. Soon Perceptor and a few aides took a now hyperventilating Sari out of the chamber. Ratchet was about to leave when Optimus ordered him to stop. The medic looked annoyed and nervous.

"Sir, Sari needs my help!" Ratchet snapped.

"But you need to return to Dreamscreamer," started the Magnus. "Arcee will need your help when she awakens." Ratchet was about to argue, but stopped himself. The red head would be under the care of the top scientists on Cybertron, and with a sparkling on the way, his bondmate couldn't handle the stress of dealing with the femme alone. He knew her personality would no longer be rowdy like before he wiped her memory, but Arcee would be dealing with a scared, innocent femme. Ratchet sighed.

"You're right. I'll…let you know when she wakes up." He then saluted Optimus and left the chamber. The leader rubbed his temple, knowing the meeting was not over. There was still Starscream to deal with, and he knew how that Con could get, even if he helped the Autobots.

"Well well," the former second-in-command interjected, "Hasn't this been dandy?"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Prowl made his optics go offline as he frowned deeply in concentration. He knew that his master wanted him to do this, and that he needed to do this for some reason. He had no idea what the purpose was, but apparently it was important.

He began to hum softly to himself and the low, continuous sound seemed to vibrate the air around him, and then his very spark. However, the sensation faded into numbness and then complete obliviousness of his surroundings, until he no longer heard any sound at all. Part of his mind told him that he was getting closer to achieving his goal to contact the Pit, but he quickly dismissed the thought. He could not afford to be distracted, not even by the smallest of stray thoughts.

Everything became pitch black, and not just because he had turned off his optical sensors. He had also lost touch with his other senses, as well as the world around him. He knew that he was tapping into another plane of existence, one that very few in the living world had been able to touch. The thought awed him and terrified him at the same time.

He felt himself slipping deeper and deeper into blackness, yet somehow he felt that he was only scratching the surface of where he needed to go, almost as though he was going through a black… fog. There was nothing tangible about it, but he felt some resistance as he pressed onward, continuing to stretch out with his spark. Some small part of him paused just long enough to wonder if this might have been a barrier placed there to keep those with the ability to wander—such as himself—from entering. Either that, or it was simply the barrier which separated the realms, like a thick layer of… well, something. Prowl didn't even know any words for it.

As he pressed onward, the feeling of resistance began to gradually subside, and Prowl had a feeling he was getting closer to his mark. He hesitated, hoping that he would be able to find his way back when he was ready.

Suddenly, Prowl became aware of a new sensation. At first it was gradual, like a distant sound coming from miles away, but then it hit him with full force. Whether he simply got closer or his spark had adjusted, thus becoming more in-tune with this place, he did not know. But he was suddenly overwhelmed with the shrieks, screams and yowls from thousands—no, hundreds of thousands, or maybe even millions—who resided here. All of them were terrified, completely alone, and suffering more bitterness and agony than anyone Prowl had ever seen or heard of in the living world.

Prowl was so overwhelmed that he panicked, becoming momentarily lost in the sea of screams. He had to turn back—he had to go back the way he came! Only he couldn't figure out which way that was… wasn't he still on the edge of the Pit? Couldn't he go back?

After a moment he realized that he was in the midst of the Pit, amongst thousands upon thousands of individuals, in one area of the immense realm. He wasn't seeing everyone—he could not possibly be able to perceive the entire population of the Pit, but somehow he could sense and "see" a very large number of them.

He then tried his hardest to get a grip on himself. He did not belong here, and he wasn't even fully here; he was simply poking into the realm, at least metaphorically. Gradually, with the use of processor over matter, and the relaxation techniques he'd learned over the millennia, he managed to tune out the majority of the anguished screams and waves of agony. Part of me him wished he could help, to do something to ease their pain and loneliness, but… there was nothing he could do.

He felt… a bit scarred though, as if this place and all of its torment and isolation had left a permanent mark on his spark. He certainly knew one thing; he never wanted come here to stay. Out of impulse, he reached out, mentally calling his master's name, but there was no answer. Of course there wouldn't be, though; Yoketron was in the Well of All Sparks, not in this place. There would be no reason whatsoever for Yoketron to even touch this place, not even for Prowl's sake.

And quite frankly… this was one place where Prowl would never want to see his Master.

Pressing onward, Prowl continued his search, knowing that he was trying to find one individual in particular… where was Sentinel? And how would Prowl find that one person amongst the seemingly infinite number of anguished sparks that were crying out unceasingly?

0o0o0o0o0o0

Ratchet was driving back to the hospital when he received a link from Arcee.

"Ratchet, Red Alert just contacted me: Dreamscreamer is waking up!" She sounded excited, and despite the previous hassle, he too felt it, mainly from their bond.

"Ok, but don't push yourself there-"

"Oh don't worry," Arcee interrupted. "I'm already here. I finished all the adoption files. Now hurry!" Ratchet chuckled and sped his pace. Although he arrived in minutes, it seemed like hours. After all, this was his first meeting with his new…daughter. It was strange when he looked at it that way. Technically she wasn't related to either him or his mate, and he had known her as the screaming and headstrong bot from before. But now she could make a fresh start, like Arcee. Though she still had her memory and personality intact. That meant Ratchet and Arcee had a key role in reshaping Dreamscreamer and her new future.

The new guardian could've gulped. He had little experience with raising anything. Yes he helped take care of Sari when her father disappeared, but she wasn't his own child. All the Autobots pitched in to keep her safe. This time it was only him and Arcee. Together.

If the old doc-bot was in his robot mode he could've grinned. He knew that whatever would happen, Arcee would always be there. He felt a pulse of comfort in his spark, and knew that his bondmate was feeling his concern. Now he was more confident then ever.

Just in time too, as he had reached the entrance to the hospital. He transformed and ran to the direction of Dreamscreamer's room. He passed by the nurses and wandering patients without truly noticing them. They were nothing but a blur.

Finally Ratchet reached the door. He hesitated for just a second before walking in.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Sentinel whimpered, his optics wide and his entire body trembling. He huddled in the middle of the black nothingness, unable to look away from the figure that loomed before him.

It was a terrible, dark, looming figure, the only thing he could see in the complete darkness. He had no idea what it was, but it seemed to be an ever-looming presence that looked as though it were made of pure fire. It seemed as though that its sole purpose was to torment him.

"You deserve to be here!" it spat, then jabbed Sentinel in the chest with a long, fiery tentacle, causing him to scream in agony and flinch away. "You never deserved anything else. In fact, there was never anything else, you know that, don't you?"

Sentinel did not respond. He had heard this creature or entity or whatever it was say these things so many times now that he'd actually started to believe it. Especially since there was no longer anything for him, nothing except isolation and pain… and regret. No, not regret, that was too soft a word for it; he felt guilt.

In fact, due to the never ending jeering and torment from the hellish creature, Sentinel was actually beginning to believe that no one else had ever existed besides him and this strange creature. He had always been alone, and had always been in pain. Anything else had simply been an illusion—a vain attempt to escape into a dream, or into insanity, just to escape from here, at least mentally. But there was no escaping from here, and there was nothing good about this place. There had never been anything good at all.

Sentinel collapsed on the ground, still whimpering, as the creature continued to lash at him and jeer at him. He also knew that it wouldn't be along until the flames of the Pit flared up again, scorching his very essence until it was charred. Yet somehow, here in this place, he always lived through it, and slowly healed. And while he healed the creature came to taunt him. Maybe it was the devil himself, the Fallen, who had betrayed Primus so long ago. But once Sentinel was finished healing, the flames would scorch him again, and thus the cycle began all over again.

He no longer cried out, no longer begged for the torment to stop. He would do plenty of that when the flames came again.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Prowl was uncertain how, but eventually he managed to find Sentinel. And when he did, it proved to the ninja that this place was strange indeed, or at least it was a very different kind of realm. Or maybe it was simply because he wasn't really here, but sort of an outside observer from the realm of the living.

Despite the fact that there were anguished sparks all around, it seemed they were all deaf to each other and could not go toward each other, nor were they aware of any other presence outside themselves. And it was much the same way with Sentinel.

However, as he approached Sentinel, Prowl noticed something odd. The mech looked just like he had in the living realm, right down to the snow plow on his shoulders for his Earth alt. mode, and the enormous chin on his face. It looked like Sentinel, as vivid and real as if he was standing in bright sunlight. And yet he was surrounded by complete blackness, and looked as though he could see something that Prowl could not. And by the way he kept ducking and dodging—not to mention yelping—the ninja could only deduce that Sentinel believed he was being attacked or harmed. Was Sentinel suffering some sort of delusion?

"Sentinel," Prowl called out as he moved forward. "Sentinel."

The blue-skinned mech paid no heed to him. In fact, even as Prowl watched, he seemed to collapse on the "ground", (if that was the right word, considering there was nothing here but an endless black void) and yet continued to flinch, as though something was hitting him. Or more accurately… singing him.

Prowl tried a few more times to get his attention, until finally he yelled, at the highest volume of his vocal capacity, "SENTINEL!"

Finally, Sentinel showed some sign of awareness. At least he acknowledged he'd heard Prowl. "W-what?" he whimpered timidly. "Who's there?"

Prowl had never seen Sentinel like this. The egotistical glory hound that the ninja bot had known in the living world had been completely worn away, into a broken and whimpering shell of apathy, one that was forced to "live" in an existence where the only purpose of existing was to endure torment.

"SENTINEL, I NEED TO TALK TO YOU!" Prowl continued to yell, because it seemed to be the only way to get through to Sentinel at all.

"Just bring the fire and get it over with!" Sentinel moaned.

"I am not here to harm you," Prowl told him, moving closer and speaking more softly. Since the other bot seemed to be conversing with him, he felt that he had Sentinel's attention now.

"Yes you are! Pain… pain is all there is…"

Prowl reached out and tried to place a servo on Sentinel's shoulder, and to his surprise he was able to touch it. Sentinel flinched and drew back, slapping at his hand. Prowl pulled his own hand away.

"Sentinel, you're going to get another chance at life!" Prowl told him. "My Master, Yoketron, told me that, somehow… you're getting out of here."

"There is no place but here… never was…"

"Sentinel, think back!" Prowl persisted. "Don't you remember the living world?"

"This is… all there is… pain… PAIN! IT HURTS! SLAG IT HURTS!" He thrashed about again, as though something had sliced through him.

Prowl moved forward and grabbed the other bot by the shoulders, shaking him slightly. Part of him wondered how he was able to touch Sentinel when he couldn't touch Yoketron, but this wasn't the time to wonder. He could just ask his master another time.

"THINK!" Prowl yelled, trying to get through to him. "THINK ABOUT IT! You remember me, don't you? It's me, Prowl!"

The ninja thought he saw a trace of recognition in Sentinel's face, but it vanished quickly. "Fantasy… illusions…"

"You used to be a Prime in the Elite Guard!" Prowl persisted. "Sentinel, you must remember!"

"No… stop taunting me, all an illusion… GO AWAY."

Quite suddenly, Sentinel screamed and shrieked as though he'd had hot molten lava poured all over him. After a moment, Prowl yelped as well and found himself pulling back. He couldn't see anything, but he felt the edges of intense heat touching him, causing him to withdraw and retreat to a safe distance.

The wails from within the Pit increased tenfold, and Prowl got the feeling that whatever was happening to Sentinel, it was happening to more than just him.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Alpha Trion held out a data pad. Currently the Council was deliberating whether to lock Starscream in the stockade, let him join the Autobots, or exile him to some far off sector across the galaxy.

"Designation: Starscream

Affiliation: Decepticon

Gender: Mech

History:…

The seeker quietly scowled. What was with this whole charade anyway? As Alpha Trion's voice droned on, he thought of what he would do for whatever his fate was. He definitely wouldn't be able to rejoin the Decepticons. Megatron would rip Starscream himself limb by limb if he ever dared to return. The Allspark fragment in his head would keep him alive, but it couldn't numb pain and torture. He really didn't feel like running away. Sure, he could make an escape if he was in the stockade. However, that would leave the Decepticons AND the Autobots on his tail. And if he was accepted to join them…

Starscream frowned a bit. If he was given the offer, he might consider it. And once he was trusted enough, he'd desert them and most likely join the Decepticons again. With a new name of course.

Yes, that sounded like a plan, however basic it was.

"Starscream, do you agree to the war crimes which have been charged against you?"

Snapping out of his thoughts, the magenta transformer looked up. Alpha Trion, the Magnus, and the rest of the Council were waiting for his answer. Quite frankly Starscream did not pay attention to what they were saying, but he didn't see to bright of a future for himself anyway.

Taking an intake of air, he answered, "Yes" Surprisingly, the guards did not jump him and handcuff his servos to drag him to the stockade. Alpha Trion continued.

"And do you see the fault of your previously mentioned actions?" Starscream blinked first before answering. What did the leaders plan to do? He did feel stupid for his failed attempts to kill Megatron and gain control of the Decepticons. What harm was there for telling half truth?

"Yes," he finally answered. Alpha Trion then turned to Optimus Magnus. The red mech stood forward and stated, "If that is so, then you will spend two orns in the stockade. When your time has been served, you will work as an apprentice to Chromia."

The seeker's eyes widened greatly and he ground his dental plates. He expected to be locked up more or less, but to serve under a tiny Autobot femme? Disgusting! When he looked over to the same bot who brought him here, he saw she did not take the news well either.

"But sir, surely—"she started.

"Starscream's sentence has been chosen," Optimus said firmly, "and from what I know, you are a capable and strong femme." Chromia clenched her fists and her faceplate heated up from frustration. Still, she would not disobey her Magnus.

"Y-yes sir," she said forcibly. Starscream couldn't help but smirk a bit. At least he wouldn't be making her happy.

"Then it's settled," said Optimus. "I call this Council meeting to an end."

0o0o0o0o0

Megatron finally gave the order for Omega Supreme to pull away from Earth's atmosphere. He didn't want to risk spending too much time near the planet, just in case the Autobots were still monitoring it somehow and became aware of his presence. So, once he was satisfied with the amount of damage that had been inflicted, he made sure they pulled off, moving far out into Earth's orbit.

"We have done all I care to do here," he told his minions. Shockwave was still at his station, looking ever alert and watchful. Soundwave was present and attentive, but seemed to be making some upgrades on his small minions—which included Laserbeak, Ratbat, Rumble and Ravage. The two clones of Starscream were on the bridge, the cowardly one trembling in the corner while the egotistical one stood smirking. In many ways, Megatron noted, Thundercracker really had a knack for annoying everyone, more than once. Lugnut was standing near the clones, looking like an ever-loyal puppy dog.

Oil Slick and Night bird were in their quarters, with the "package" that Soundwave had delivered to Megatron personally. The Decepticon leader smirked slightly as he thought about it. He simply hoped… that the two cyber ninjas would be able to succeed in their task.

Megatron figured he would know soon enough. In the meantime, he personally punched in new coordinates into Omega Supreme's navigational computer and ordered the ship to transwarp. They were going to a remote area of space for the time being, just until the next step in Megatron's plan was fulfilled.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Oil Slick and Nightbird sat kneeled on the floor in their shared quarters, with the metallic box between them. It was wide open, revealing the item it contained fully for their optics to see.

It was an awesome, impressive sight, especially when one took into account the sheer significance of it and the power it held. It was a flawless sphere, about the size of a standard spark, and somehow it seemed to be all colors yet crystal clear all at the same time.

"Magnificent," Oil Slick was the first to break the silence. Night Bird said nothing, keeping her optics fixed on the object, but Oil Slick felt a wave of pure thrill and awe wash through his spark, emotions that were not his own. He smiled ever so slightly; one thing he loved about their bond was that he now knew what she was thinking—or at least, feeling—when she didn't say a word.

What they had before them was truly a one of a kind item. It was from the All Spark, and not an Allspark fragment mind you, but the Core of the Allspark—it's essence, or heart, if you will. It was said that the Allspark existed in layers. The outer layer, which was like white crystal, was the part of it that gifted machines with the spark of life. The inner part of it—the Core—was the Allspark's essence, and the part of it that connected to other realms of existence, and could even summon sparks back from the Well or the Pit if it so chose to.

Furthermore, according to legend, the Allspark had been designed by Primus to create life. But it had been forged in two different places—the Core had been created and forged within the fires of the Pit, for that was the Pit's original purpose.

In the beginning, the Pit was simply a small off-shoot of the Well, much like a small room or chamber attached to the mighty realm that Primus called Home. It was only after Cybertronians with sparks began to fall, developing self-centered motives and causing destruction and devastation, that Primus recreated the Pit into a place of eternal punishment for the wicked, the fallen, and the forever lost. And thus, a place that had once been merely an area to help forge the Allspark's core essence had become a place of condemnation. The height of irony, no?

Anyway the white, glowing crystalline layers which coated the Core of the Allspark were made within the Well, and this gave it the ability to create sparks. The white layer was the life-giving factor. And since the Allspark had been to both the Well and the Pit during the stages of its creation and development, it could also keep in touch with both realms, both consciously and subconsciously.

When it had been dispersed by Optimus Prime, the outer white layer had simply shattered and flown away from the Core. The Core itself, however, remained intact. And in a sense it was probably still in touch with the white fragments that still existed, but now they existed as separate entities. Still connected, yet separate.

"So," Nightbird finally asked, speaking for the first time since she'd entered the room, "do you think it is still… in touch with the Well of All Sparks, or just the pit?"

"I do not know… perhaps both," Oil Slick shrugged, never taking his eyes off the glowing sphere.

Each of them finally snapped back to their senses, at least just enough to remember what Megatron wanted them to do. Sentinel's gray, lifeless body lay on the berth across the room from them. It was their berth that they had set it on, but it was necessary to put the corpse there for what they were about to do.

"How is this going to work?" Nightbird asked, her voice trembling slightly, causing her mate to look at her.

Oil Slick could feel her uneasiness washing through her spark into his own through the bond. He reached out and took her hand into his own, trying to sooth her fears and wariness.

You fear contacting the Pit, don't you? Oil Slick asked her mentally, through their bond.

Nightbird bowed her head slightly, dimming her optics and then giving his hand a squeeze. Yes, she answered back, in kind. What if Sentinel's spark resides in the Pit, and we have to… She trailed off.

Oil Slick shifted his position to move toward her, placing his servos on her shoulders. "Don't worry," he assured her, speaking aloud this time. "I'm here with you, you know that."

She smiled. She had her faceplate up, but he knew she was smiling. He felt it in his spark.


	25. Chapter 25

The first thing Starscream lost in the stockade was his null rays. At least it wasn't his sanity. He heard how that Waspinator bot went insane within these walls, paying for a treason he didn't commit. Hopefully the seeker wouldn't end up the same, even though he knew when he was getting out.

But then he'd have to report to that Autobot Chromia. He growled at how low he had sunk in rank. From second in command of the entire Decepticon forces to a mere assistant to a femme barely half his height.

She's only good as optic candy, Starscream sneered in his mind.

Until then, he'd have some quiet in his cell.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Prowl remained where he was, trying to determine what the next best course of action would be. In truth he felt that he should probably go back. He hadn't solved anything here, and he disliked this place very much. Yet for some reason he lingered behind, keeping his senses aware of his surroundings; he wasn't sure why.

Just then, gradually, he became aware of something else. It seemed that another outside presence was attempting to peer into the Pit from the living realm, just as he was. He could tell because the presence of those who did not belong here sent gentle ripples through the area. They were almost unnoticeable, but definitely there.

Who is there? Prowl wondered, then decided to go and see. It took some effort, but he managed to ignore the screams of agony and anguish as he went.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Nightbird and Oil Slick found the Pit to be quite disturbing, especially due to the intense screams of pain, anguish and isolation. The intense fires of this place were invisible but could be felt, plus the agony and sorrow could be felt almost as though it was tangible.

I am here with you, Oil Slick told his mate mentally, trying to reassure her. She was a strong femme, but a place such as this could disturb or wear down anyone.

I know, Nightbird acknowledged in kind, and he sensed affection and appreciation radiating through their bond. I am simply glad that we do not reside here.

Oil Slick sent her a wave of warmth along their link. It was about the closest thing he could do to hugging her or squeezing her hand in this place, since they were far from their bodies, in a sense. They were only here in spirit, after all.

Just remember, Oil Slick told her, we are only here for Sentinel, and then we can go.

Nightbird nodded. Then let us find him, she replied.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

As Ratchet approached his adopted daughter, she slowly onlined her optics. Arcee held on to her mate's arm and waited for something to happen. At first Dreamscreamer tossed and turned before sitting up. She rubbed her helm and grumbled something, but she slowly brought up her head and looked at the red and pink couple before her. Her soft blue optics widened with fright and confusion.

Arcee was actually quite used to this look from newly forged protoforms and sparklings. When she was assigned new bots to teach, she'd always introduce herself.

"Hello, my name's Arcee, and this is my bondmate Ratchet." As she motioned towards her mate, he gave a meek half smile. The old medic tried his best, but he wasn't all that used to smiling at everyone.

The blue and green femme inched back a little bit and said, "But who am I?" Arcee gave her a gentle grin and said, "Your designation is Dreamscreamer, but what you become is of your choice."

She frowned a bit. "Dreamscreamer? I don't like it."

"Why not?" Ratchet asked.

"Well…it's not like I'm screaming is it? So why Dreamscreamer?" As truly innocent as she was, Ratchet couldn't help but chuckle. "We'll give you a new name once you come home."

"What home?"

"Our home" Arcee answered. "You're our daughter now." To their surprise, she smiled. "Really? I won't have to be alone?"

This time Ratchet gave her a true smile. "Never."

0o0o0o0o0

It took Prowl a little while to be able to figure out who these newcomers were. But after time, he recognized them as the very souls he'd seen and confronted on the dead planetoid. He'd already deduced that they had cyber ninja training, because no one else could possibly have the gift or the training to come to this place while they were still living.

Prowl wondered what they could have possibly wanted, but he remained silent, not wanting to give himself away. So he simply observed.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Nightbird and Oil Slick each thought they sensed a presence that was not of the Pit, but they ignored it. Neither of them wanted to be here for any longer than they had to, and they had a job to do anyway.

It took some time, but with a combined effort, the two of them managed to locate the essence of Sentinel. They were able to home in on him because, before they had accessed the Core, they had taken a reading on Sentinel's energy signature. His spark had the same signature, so they were able to look for it with their senses. In all Cybertronians, the energy signature in the robot form was in-tune with the spark, and were as unique as fingerprints. Even when the spark was gone from the shell, a residual amount of the energy signature remained behind, at least for a time.

And when they came upon Sentinel, they found that he was sitting on the ground—if you could call it that—with his limbs huddled tightly around himself.

0o0o0o0o0

The more Prowl observed Nightbird and Oil Slick from a distance, the more he became aware that they had… assistance. He gradually became aware of another presence, one that was aiding them. Was it… the Allspark?

So… maybe the other two cyber ninjas were not as powerful as he feared. It also made Prowl realize that he had an advantage. Apparently, Prowl himself could contact the Pit or the Well all on his own, with his own willpower and concentration. Nightbird and Oil Slick, on the other hand, needed assistance from what remained of the Allspark.

It also seemed obvious what they were going to do; they were trying to bring back Sentinel Prime. But… why? For what purpose?

Prowl had no idea. But he did remember Yoketron's words, that Sentinel would be given a second chance at life. Perhaps… this was meant to be so, somehow? He frowned slightly to himself and continued to observe as discreetly as he could.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Oil Slick and Nightbird moved in unison, due to their bond and due to the fact that they were both here through the Allspark Core. They both managed to get to Sentinel, trying to draw his spark toward them, but he would not move. He had withdrawn into himself, and his mind was now chaotic and knew nothing but loneliness and torment. He had no reason to pay any attention to them; the pain and the fire was the only thing that seemed real here.

The two Decepticon ninjas kept trying and trying, but they could not touch Sentinel or lead his essence back through the Core to his own body, not unless he acknowledged their presence and cooperated with them.

The two of them were also getting more and more worn out, as more time went on. They couldn't stay here forever, and they still needed some energy to get back through the Allspark Core again.

But then, just as they were beginning to give up, they noticed that they weren't alone.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Perceptor looked over the hustle in the medbay as the two techno organic femmes lay motionless on their berths. He constantly checked on any progress that might have been made, but there wasn't much to show. Despite the all the doctors' work, only Sari seemed to be fairing well. Her human immune system, which had gotten a boost from her upgrade, was stalling the nanites from overtaking her organic tissues. It did not stop the progress completely, but it was enough to give hope.

Unfortunately the same could not be said for BlackArachnia. The nanites had already begun to destroy the tissues in her legs and arms, revealing Elita 1's old yellow and blue armor. Even her pincers eventually fell of, no longer of use to the body. Perceptor knew too well this was what the femme would have wanted. But there was one drawback: the nanites would soon reach her vital organs. Without them, her body would suffer major energy drawback, and her robotic half had grown dependent on those organs to supply nutrients. She would most likely die if they could not stop it in time.

For the first time in millennia, Perceptor did not know what to do.

"Perceptor sir," chirped someone in his commlink, "Slipstream has gotten stung by Waspinator!"

Although the mech no longer had emotions, his spark gave off a pulse of annoyance. "Why is this so important?" he asked.

"Well, it seems the venom has corroded some of her circuitry. It's gone completely!"

Perceptor froze. If that other techno organic's venom could destroy Cybertronian metal, then maybe…well, could it? If there was one thing his friend Wheeljack had taught him, it was to take a chance with anything. Even if it could blow up.

"Send both of the prisoner's to the Iacon Hospital; I want a sample of Waspinator's venom."

The scientist looked back at his patients. Right now the nurses could watch their vitals. He had an antidote to make.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Prowl cautiously approached, making his presence known to the other two ninjas. He had been thinking about this for a little while, ever since he'd begun watching them try to stir Sentinel's tormented essence.

Even though Sentinel had not been the best bot in the galaxy… part of Prowl wondered if, perhaps, things might be different if Sentinel was given a second chance. Of course he didn't deserve it, but perhaps he would be willing to change his ways, if he got returned to his own body.

The only thing was… Prowl couldn't fully help Sentinel this way. He would have to make a sacrifice in order for this to work. But maybe this could be beneficial, in more than one way. And since Oil Slick and Nightbird probably had Sentinel's body at the ready… it should be a simply matter to take Sentinel's essence through the Core and channel it out, back into its own body.

"Prepare to lead the way," Prowl told Nightbird and Oil Slick, then took a deep, hesitant breath. "I will bring Sentinel… I just need you both to lead me back to the Core."

Nightbird and Oil Slick exchanged glances of surprise, but said nothing. They detected only honest sincerity, no deceit. And the fact was, they did need help, or Megatron was not going to be please. So, after a moment's hesitation, they both silently agreed.

With that, Prowl did what he needed to do. After a few moments of hard concentration, he severed all ties from his body in the living realm—in essence, he caused his spark to leave his body, entering the Pit fully and willingly. He then let out a horrible yell as he became more fully aware of the fires of the Pit, and began to notice the fiery figures of the demons. But he ignored them; he had a task to accomplish.

Nightbird and Oil Slick, having seen and felt what he'd done, lent him a hand in order to prevent him from becoming lost within the Pit. Then Prowl, now being dead himself, was able to forcefully grab Sentinel's essence and drag him out of this place, as Oil Slick and Nightbird led the way back to the Core.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Oil Slick's and Nightbird's optics reactivated in unison. They were back in their quarters, still kneeling on the floor on either side of the Allspark Core, and feeling rather stiff and disoriented.

After a moment, they noticed a slight stirring, and both of them turned to look at Sentinel. His body was still laid out on their berth, and right now it was moving. Not only that, but the color had returned to it. The blue mech let out a moan, then went completely still.

Nightbird stiffly got up and walked over to Sentinel, standing beside the berth as she leaned over to check his vitals. "He's in deep recharge," she whispered. "But he's alright."

Oil Slick nodded, saying nothing. That had been one very unusual journey, leaving him and his mate feeling quite exhausted. Neither of them wanted to go through that again, at least not for a very long while.

The chemist leaned over the Core thoughtfully, then frowned when he noticed something… odd. It was no longer glowing like it had been previously. It was still glowing slightly, but it had dimmed down considerably. He tentatively touched it with his fingertips.

"Nightbird…" Something in his tone and something she felt through their bond made her turn quickly toward him and hurry toward him.

"Oh… my," Nightbird gasped when she saw it. The Core was no longer accessible by anyone on the outside, not even by the Cyber Ninjas. It was almost as though it had withdrawn in on itself.

"Perhaps it was our visit to the Pit that did it," Oil Slick murmured. "Maybe we used most of the energy it had left to bring Sentinel back."

"It's all well, then," Nightbird murmured. "I would not want to go through that experience again anytime soon."

Oil Slick nodded, knowing exactly what she meant. If the Core was now largely useless, then that meant that no one could use it again in any way, and it especially meant no more trips to the Pit.

"I wonder what happened to Prowl," Oil Slick said thoughtfully.

Nightbird cocked her head to one side, appearing equally thoughtful. "You felt what happened, just as I did," she said. "He severed his own spark from his body in order to get Sentinel back to his own body. I sensed… goodwill within the intent. But Prowl would never be able to find his way back to his body, not after severing himself. He is… in the Pit right now, I would imagine."

Oil Slick nodded slowly, his optics widening. "In Sentinel's place," he added as an afterthought.

The two of the exchanged glances.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Jazz was on break from his usual duties, and so he'd opted to go visit Prowl to see how he was doing. However Jazz received no answer when he tried knocking, and when he checked around a little he found that Prowl didn't seem to be with any of his other friends. So Jazz deduced that Prowl was either in his residence, or off meditating somewhere.

The white-mech ninja was a little concerned that something was wrong with Prowl, so he entered even without knocking, just to check and see if he was alright. If Prowl was simply recharging or meditating, then Jazz wouldn't disturb him; he would simply leave. But there was a funny feeling in his spark that something was wrong, and he just felt he needed to check on Prowl, at the very least.

Jazz looked around in the main living area, then slipped off toward Prowl's recharge room to see if he was in there. When he peeked into the room, he did a double-take at what he saw; the black-and-gold ninja was lying flat on the floor, his armor and skin-plating having dulled with the effects of death—of the spark having left the body. Even Prowl's visor had gone completely dark, having lost the bright blue color and having gone completely gray.

At first he was too stunned to move, but then Jazz finally rushed forward into the room and knelt down beside Prowl, simply taking the sight in, trying to absorb and analyze the scene before him. The offline mech had no damage, and there was no sign of struggle or energy fire in the room.

So what in the name of the Pit had happened here?

Still stunned, Jazz got to his feet and pressed the commlink button on the side of his head. "Optimus Magnus… if you're getting this… I have some bad news. I just found Prowl… dead in his room."

0o0o0o0o0o0

Prowl was alone. More alone than he had ever been in his life. And even to him—the bot who often preferred solitude—this kind of aloneness was almost too much to bear, being surrounded by blackness and completely weightlessness.

However, he allowed the deep black void to pull him and keep him… because he had no choice. There was no escape.


	26. Chapter 26

His servos were barely vibrating from anticipation. Perceptor hardly ever worked on anything concerning organics, let alone techno organics. Still he knew what he was doing. And the venom was working.

Finally, a cure.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Sentinel Prime had been moved from Nightbird's and Oil Slick's shared quarters to what was now Soundwave's work room aboard Omega Supreme. The blue mech lay on a low berth in the room, flat on his back.

Soundwave ran a few scans over the mech, taking advantage of the fact that Sentinel was still deep in recharge. Then he took the scans and spent several cycles analyzing them, eventually coming to the conclusion that, apparently, Sentinel had absorbed a lot of energy from the Core.

The Decepticon already knew that the Allspark Core was now useless and drained of energy, because the two cyber ninjas had told him as much. And thus, not even Megatron cared anymore what happened with the now useless object, so as far as Soundwave knew, Nightbird still had it. Apparently she wanted to keep it as a souvenir or something like that, which suited him fine. It could be thrown in the garbage for all he cared.

Just as Soundwave was beginning to access Omega Supreme's memory banks for a specific set of schematics, he felt something bumping up against his ankle joint. He paused from his work and glanced down to see none other than Ravage.

"What is it, Ravage?" Soundwave asked his creation in his mechanical, monotone voice.

Ravage growled softly, opening his mouth wide and gesturing toward another part of the room with one of his paws.

Soundwave made a slight gesture of annoyance, then walked in the direction his minion had gestured to see what was up. He then saw that Ratbat had apparently gotten himself wedged in a panel on one of the ship's conduits. Soundwave matter-of-factly bent over to pry the panel open just enough so that Ratbat could free himself. Once he was safely out, Soundwave picked him up to look him over.

"You have a minor dent, but it's easily fixable," Soundwave said. "I will attend to it later." He released his small minion. He had other things to do right now.

Once he returned to the console he had been at previously, Soundwave continued to look for the data he sought. After some time, he managed to find it; it was a scan/schematic of Optimus. Since five Autobots had served aboard this vessel doing maintenance crew, (even if the fifth one hadn't been officially assigned to it) it had been required that a full scan of them be taken and placed within the vessel's memory storage. This was mainly for identification purposes, and in case something happened to one of them—in case they needed a replacement part, such as a new limb or something—they could simply send out a copy of the schematics so that they could prepare a new, replacement part.

Soundwave was pleased to find the data, because he was going to use the schematic of Optimus to rebuild Sentinel so that he would look just like Optimus. He would also have to modify Sentinel's programming a bit so that he could act as a suitable slave to Megatron's will, without running the risk of messing up any of the Decepticon leader's plans.

"Let the work begin," Soundwave murmured, half to himself and half to his minions. Then he injected Sentinel with a heavy sedative, to make sure he would stay in deep recharge while he did his work.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Arcee, Ratchet, and Dreamscreamer walked back to their apartment a few blocks away. The young femme stared in awe at the towering buildings around her. The irritated medic had to more than once push or tug her out of someone's way. While she observed the sights her new neighborhood, Arcee got into her teaching mode and told her the basic history of Iacon.

Sooner or later the trio reached the door to their apartment. Dreamscreamer entered first and gasped. Although this was like any other home in the city, she thought it was perfect.

"Wow! Is this were we will live? The three of us?" she exclaimed. Ratchet gave Arcee a look, and told her by their bond that they should tell her.

"Dream," Arcee said walking to her, "sometime from now, there'll be four of us."

"Huh?"

Ratchet got behind his mate and placed a servo over her spark chamber. "Arcee is carrying a sparkling, and your sibling."

Looking confused, she asked, "You mean there's a little guy INSIDE of you?"

Arcee laughed. "Yes."

"But how'd it get stuck in there?"

Ratchet chuckled a bit. "How about if we show you you're new room?"

Dreamscreamer still looked curious about how there could be a little person inside Arcee, but the determined look on Ratchet's face made her drop the subject. That, and the fact she wanted to see more of the apartment anyway.

Ratchet lead the way to Dream's room and opened the door for her, allowing her to get a good look inside. The young femme walked up and peered inside curiously.

"Go on in," Ratchet said with a small smile. "Get settled. We'll be right out here if you need anything, or if you have any questions."

Arcee glanced toward Ratchet. She could tell through their bond that he had something on his mind, something he wanted to talk to her about. So she nodded toward Dreamscreamer, indicating she should do as Ratchet said. Once Dreamscreamer was in her room, she sat down on the edge of her berth and looked around, absorbing her new surroundings. After watching her for a moment, Arcee quietly closed the door.

The couple then walked into the main living area of the apartment. "Now, what's wrong?" Arcee asked.

"Have a seat," Ratchet told her with a wary sigh. Once they were both seated on the couch, he told her in a soft yet gruff voice, "Arcee, Sari has been contaminated with some nanites that could possibly kill her."

Arcee's optics widened and she put a servo over her mouth. "Oh… my," she murmured. That was all she could think to say.

"But the best medics and doctors of Iacon are doing all they can for her," Ratchet said.

"You wish you were there to help," Arcee said. She knew exactly what he was feeling.

"Yeah," Ratchet said, knowing it would be useless to lie. And he didn't want to lie to his bondmate anyway. "But I'm needed here." He placed a gentle servo on Arcee's hand, then gave it a light squeeze.

"I appreciate you being here," Arcee said warmly. She then placed a gentle hand on his old, craggy cheek. "You know that."

He smiled. "Yeah, I do."

They leaned toward each other, and were just about to press their mouth together in a kiss when Ratchet's commlink went off. "Crud," he grumbled under his breath, then sighed. That thing just had to go off right now, didn't it? Arcee gazed at him, looking slightly amused at his reaction and slightly annoyed at the interruption at the same time.

The old grumpy medic pressed the button on his commlink. "Yeah, what is it?" he asked grouchily.

"Ratchet," came the voice of Optimus Magnus, "it's Prowl. Jazz found him dead in his room."

Ratchet did a double take and glanced at Arcee, who was looking at him curiously. He turned his attention back to the call. "What do you mean? What happened? Did someone kill him?"

"We don't know what happened," Optimus replied. "Jazz simply went in to visit him and found him dead on the floor. There was no sign of a fight or a struggle of any kind, and no energy blasts. In fact… according to the medic who checked him over, Prowl seems completely fine, physically. His spark is just… gone."

Ratchet talked to Optimus for a couple more cycles, trying to press for every detail possible, and then he even asked the Magnus for the commlink frequency of the medic who'd examined Prowl.

"Ratchet, what's going on?" Arcee asked, as her mate proceeded to key in the commlink frequency.

"Prowl's dead… and I'm trying to find out how it happened," Ratchet said grimly. Arcee gasped softly, pressing both hands against her mouth. Ratchet looked at her, feeling bad to burden her with bad news about two friends in one day, but he also knew that she'd probably find out sooner her later. He paused in what he was doing to place a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"You okay?" he asked her gently. He did not want her to get too upset, or to get depressed or anything. That wouldn't be good for her or the sparkling at this point.

"I'll be okay," Arcee assured him. "It's just… that's so shocking."

"I know," Ratchet said, wrapping his arm around her and holding her close. She rested her head against his torso. After gazing down at her for a moment, he said, "I'm going to talk to the medic who examined him to see what I can find out." She nodded, then he finished keying in the medic's commlink frequency and called him. Ratchet questioned the medic in great detail, asking for every single detail, even asking the medic to check certain things, but the medic found nothing new.

Finally, Ratchet terminated the link, and looked back at Arcee. "This just doesn't make any sense," he muttered. "Prowl apparently dies in his room for no reason? There should have been some sign of damage, at the very least. Or a virus." He sighed. "I don't know."

"Is there any other reason a spark might leave its body?" Arcee asked thoughtfully.

"What do you mean?"

"It's just something I remember reading a long time ago, about how it's possible for a spark to be removed, or for a bot to willingly send it elsewhere." Arcee frowned at the thought, mulling it over in her mind. "The cyber ninjas were said to have that ability, especially with their processor over matter ability."

"Hmmm," Ratchet purred thoughtfully. He knew that Arcee knew a lot, especially considering she was a schoolteacher. "But why would Prowl send his spark elsewhere?" he wondered aloud. "What purpose would this serve?"

"Hey, what's going on?"

Arcee and Ratchet glanced up in unison when they saw Dreamscreamer enter. She was looking at them both with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "You both look… unhappy." She hesitated before saying the word "unhappy", almost as though she had to search for a word to describe what she saw on their faces.

"We are a bit sad," Arcee told her slowly. Ratchet shifted uncomfortably on the couch beside her.

"Why?" Dreamscreamer asked. Obviously, it disturbed her to see her adoptive parents looking like they did. "Did something happen?"

"One of our friends died," Arcee replied gently.

Dreamscreamer blinked. "Died?" she echoed, looking very innocent and naive as that single word left her vocalizer.

Arcee gently untangled herself from Ratchet's arm, sitting up and leaning forward a bit on the couch. "When someone dies, it means they stop living." In some ways, Arcee did not feel like going into this, not now. But she also needed to think of someone other than herself, and Dreamscreamer would need a lot of help for a while. She needed to relearn things that everyone except new sparklings knew and took for granted.

"Stop living?" Dreamscreamer echoed, narrowing her optics as she tried to process this new information.

Nodding encouragingly, Arcee then continued the lesson. "All of us are living right now. We think, we talk, we refuel on energon and we recharge. But when someone dies, they no longer do anything. They are… gone."

The young femme looked disturbed, maybe even slightly startled. "Gone?" Obviously this was starting to develop meaning in her mind. And she was growing to understand that "gone" meant more in this case than having simply left the room.

Arcee nodded sadly, a small frown developing on her features; she quickly tried to suppress it, though. She knew that there were many things which Dreamscreamer would have to relearn, and that meant learning about the bad things in life along with the good things. Just today, the young femme had learned at least the very beginnings of new life—the small sparkling that was developing inside Arcee's spark chamber. And now… Dreamscreamer had just learned of death.

But Arcee knew that Dreamscreamer needed to learn, and would be learning something new every day for a long time. And Arcee knew that she and Ratchet would be there to help, every step of the way.

"Who… died?" the young femme finally asked, almost timidly.

"Our friend Prowl," Arcee replied.

"So Prowl isn't coming back? I don't know Prowl, I never got to see him."

Arcee and Ratchet exchanged glances. Both of them knew full well that Prowl had gone through a lot to save her life and bring her back safely, after what Nightbird had done to her. And now, she didn't remember a single thing about Prowl, and would never get a chance to see him again.

Arcee began to cry softly, causing Ratchet to take her into his arms and try to sooth her.

Dreamscreamer watched her adopted mother for a few moments, then she began to cry as well. She turned and ran off to her room, the only place of refuge she had.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Nightbird sat silently on the edge of her and Oil Slick's shared berth. Her bondmate was not in the room right now; he had gone to get them both some energon and would return shortly. In the meantime, she held the Allspark Core in her servos, gazing down at it thoughtfully and almost cradling it.

She wasn't sure why, but something told her that it wasn't all dead. Well, it seemed dead, and it was no longer responding to any outside touch—whether it be spiritual touch or physical touch. Yet something about it told her that it still retained… something. She detected nothing of its power or original identity, but it was almost as if something… else was there, maybe?

But if so… what?

Oil Slick walked in at that moment, causing Nightbird to glance up. He was carrying a couple of small energon cubes in each servo, and he offered two of them to her. She opened up one of the compartments in her side, one where she usually stored some of her throwing stars, and placed the Core into it for safe-keeping. Perhaps she would examine it more later.

"Thank you," Nightbird told her mate as she carefully took a couple of the cubes. These were the kind that were meant for consuming, but one still had to be careful with them.

Oil Slick sat down beside her and the two of them consumed their energon in silence. A few stray thoughts and emotions passed between them through their bond as they sat there, but nothing really formal.

Once they were finished, they set the empty cubes aside. They would dispose of them later.

"Strange," Nightbird murmured. "I feel almost as though I could use another couple of cubes."

Oil Slick glanced at her with mild surprise. Indeed, he could vaguely sense through their bond that she still felt low on fuel, at least a bit—although she seemed to be trying to hide it from him. He was slightly concerned, because even though he knew that it had been a while since they'd refueled, and their little adventure in the Pit had taken a lot out of them. But even he felt adequately refueled after only two cubes of energon.

"Perhaps you should run a self-diagnostic," Oil Slick suggested. Of course there were some ailments that even the self-diagnostic systems couldn't detect or analyze, but it was worth a shot. They didn't exactly have a medic onboard, after all.

Nightbird merely nodded, then began the self-diagnostic. Several moments passed as her internal scanners and diagnosis tools did their job, then her processor analyzed the results once it was completed. Her optics widened, and Oil Slick felt her shock through their bond.

"Nightbird, was is it?" he asked her, placing a servo on her shoulder, causing her to look at him fully.

"It's my spark…" she said, her optics still wide.

"What is it? Is there a problem?" he asked. However, he did not detect any pain from her, and she didn't seem to be suffering from anything except slight hunger and perhaps an increased amount of activity in her spark-pulse.

"No…" she whispered. "I'm… I've sparked!"

Even though Oil Slick's audio sensors picked up those words fine, it took him a full cycle for his processor to absorb them. "What?" he finally said, unsure he'd heard her correctly.

"I've sparked!" she repeated, a bit more loudly than before.

"Sparked?" Oil Slick's jaw dropped. She was carrying a sparkling? More specifically… his sparkling? He was a father?

"Yes," Nightbird nodded. Then after a moment, she added, "My systems detect two developing sparklings within my spark."

Oil Slick continued to stare at her with widened optics and mouth agape. She had sparked. And she was carrying not one, but two sparklings. And they were his children as well as hers…

Right at that moment, he did something that Nightbird never thought she'd see him do in a billion stellar cycles; he twitched a little, then fell off the edge of the berth and CRASH. He landed on the floor in a noisy heap, his processor having temporarily crashed.

His bondmate stared down at him with alarm, her optics wide. Then she shook her head slightly, and got off the berth to get up off the floor. In truth, this sort of reaction was… not unheard of when a mech found out he was going to be a father, especially of twins. Then again, she supposed some femmes may have reacted like that too, especially when it was completely unexpected.

She carefully laid him out on the berth, then she sat down beside him and carefully removed the domed glass that covered his head, setting it aside. Then she placed a servo on his cheek and, lowering her faceplate, she leaned in to kiss him, passionately and firmly.

Just as she pulled away, his optics flickered, then came back online.

She grinned, smirking just a little. "I figured that would wake you up," she said.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Doctors and nurses alike surrounded the wide berth now holding Sari and BlackArachnia. Perceptor stood in front, tools ready and set to operate. Sari's abnormally strong immune system was just starting to wear down and would probably end up having a few robotic features in her human mode. Very trivial since she could of become fully Cybertronian…or dead. As for the former spider bot, time was of the essence. Her organs specializing in venom production were degrading fast and the nanites needed t be stopped before they reached more important systems.

First was BlackArachnia. Carefully he got the needle and aimed it to an exposed part of the elbow joint. Another shot of the antidote was given through her abdomen. For the Sumdac girl he needed his magnifying glasses as to find the right spot on her small frame. Although the medics around him became a bit anxious, Perceptor did not even have a single shaky servo.

Soon enough he was done. All he needed to do was wait for the results.

0o0o0o0o0o0o00o0

"Mmmm…" Sari flipped to her side and slowly opened her eyes. Still a bit foggy in her head, she did not fully comprehend the yellow and blue bot who had her back to the femme. She looked at her reflection from the other bot's back, and didn't believe what she saw: She was in her human mode, but her eyes were the glowing blue optics like in her robot mode. That, and there was a bit of orange metal on her left cheek. And neck.

"Whuh?…" At Sari's statement, BlackArachnia turned over facing the girl. She too was a bit online and in shock. She sat up and looked over her body. It was the exact same way she looked when she was still Elita 1. Still, she felt like BlackArachnia.

"You are both techno organics, but more Cybertronian than before." The femmes looked over to Perceptor who was standing next to their berth. "Elita, though robotic in appearance, still contains major organs her circuitry has now depended upon. " The scientist now looked directly at her, and said, "I am afraid you cannot not transform into either an organic or vehicle mode." Elita looked down at herself and closed her optics. On the outside she looked normal. But deep down she was still a freak.

"Sari, your immune system has prevented the nanites from doing anything worse than superficial damage. As you have seen, your human mode has taken on a few robotic features. You, however, can still transform."

She bowed her head sheepishly and looked away from her berth buddy. Sari knew how much Elita wanted to be fully Cybertronian again, but no she couldn't even transform.

"You both have a visitor, Optimus Magnus," Perceptor continued. "I'm afraid he has some bad news."


	27. Chapter 27

The first thing Sentinel became aware of upon awakening was that he felt… different. His body felt different somehow, and it took him a few moments to make sense of his surroundings. He couldn't even remember much of anything. His senses were numb, and his processor was foggy.

A couple of minutes passed by slowly, and he gradually regained some memories. He could recall his name, he could remember the fact that he had been in a place of agony and blackness just a short time ago, and now… he seemed to be on a berth.

"State your name and rank."

Sentinel started a little when he heard a vibrating, monotone voice address him. He tried to look around to see who had spoken, but his optics weren't making much sense of his surroundings at the moment. "S-Sentinel Prime," he finally managed. Then he opened and closed his mouth, trying to speak again. Eventually he managed to get one another couple of works: "Where am I?"

"You are on Lord Megatron's ship," the monotone voice said. Sentinel then thought he could distantly hear the sound of fingers tapping on a console, but the sound faded quickly, and then he forgot that he heard anything. "You are now known as Nemesis Prime," the voice added a few moments later. "Now state your designation."

Somehow… what the voice said seemed to make sense, to the point where Sentinel began to forget that his real name was Sentinel. He wasn't sure what was happening, but he felt very open to suggestion. Nemesis Prime… yes that seemed right somehow, like it could be his name.

"I'm… Nemesis Prime," he finally said, his voice sluggish and slightly slurred. "Who are you?"

"I am Soundwave," the monotone voice replied. "And I am reprogramming you to be a loyal servant of Megatron." More tapping sounds on a console keypad could be heard, then it quickly ceased.

"Y… yeah, Megatron," the newly named Nemesis Prime said, almost drowsily. "I would like to serve Megatron."

Soundwave stepped toward him, just into his sight, and nodded once. "Excellent," the Decepticon said.

0o0o0o0o0o0

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE'S DEAD?" Sari shrieked. She was in a separate room with Optimus and, for whatever reason, Elita. The Magnus knew she wouldn't be able to take it in, but he didn't expect her to flip.

"Sari, no one's sure how it happened, but Prowl's gone. We all miss him, but he's in Primus' care now." He looked over to Elita, who was staring off into space with her hands in her lap. She didn't know the cyber ninja personally, but he needed to discuss her future with her later. Right now there were more personal matters to handle.

Sari started to whimper as oil leaked from her glowing optics. She'd do anything to get him back, or at least say good bye. Right now she found herself wishing the nanites took her so she could be with her friend. Too many regrets were filling her heart.

Optimus held the crying femme in his hand and rubbed her head tenderly. A knock at the door interrupted the moment.

"Who is it?" he asked mildly annoyed.

"Bumblebee. I wanna see Sari." The red head looked up to see the yellow mech make his way in. He looked curiously at Elita, but a glare from her stopped him.

"Say, you wanna talk for a while? I'm all audio receptors you know!" Sari gave a grim smile before getting into Bumblebee's servo and headed off to another room.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Oil Slick had slipped into a deep recharge, snoring softly. Nightbird lay on their shared berth beside him, slightly annoyed by the sounds he made but not overly so. In truth, she could quite easily tune it out. She simply did not feel like recharging. The energon she'd drank gave her enough energy to stay up for a little while longer, so long as she didn't do too much. Though she did know that she would have to recharge sometime within the next few hours, for the sake of the sparklings if nothing else.

She brushed her fingertips against her spark chamber, knowing that two brand new lives were developing within her spark right now. And eventually they would become two new Transformers.

But would they be Decepticons, like herself and Oil Slick currently were? Well, if they stayed where they were, they most likely would be. Nightbird frowned, unsure if she liked that idea very much. She wanted to take good care of her sparklings, before and after they came out into the universe, so to speak. And frankly, the adventure that she and her mate had had in the Pit had left her… disturbed. And she knew that it had left its mark on Oil Slick as well.

She did not want to risk her children going to the Pit one day. Although she also knew that if Sentinel was any indication, both Autobots and Decepticons could be sent to the Pit. Autobots seemed to say that only Decepticons got sent there. But really, it depended on how you lived your life, more or less. Not what faction you belonged to.

Nightbird sat up on the edge of the berth, gently stroking her spark chamber again. She decided that, once her sparklings were fully developed and were placed in protoform bodies, she would teach them to the best of her ability, but in the end… their path, their choices, would still be their own. She would not deny her children the chance to think for themselves and to have true freedom; the freedom to think for themselves. That is, she would grant them that freedom once they were grown up and once she had taught them everything she could.

Then, without really knowing why or what she was doing, she reached into the small compartment in her side and pulled out the darkened and useless Allspark Core. She then held it in her servo, turning it over and gazing into it. As she continued to stare into it, for some reason she couldn't help but think of Prowl and what he had done.

She had felt it, and seen it. He had severed his link with his body, causing his spark to become one of the dead within the Pit and helped bring Sentinel back to his own body. She frowned at the thought. There was no way he could have found his way back to his own body, but did that truly mean he had stayed in the Pit?

Prowl, from what she understood… had a noble spark. She had seen this for herself when their minds had briefly touched one-another, on the way back from the Pit. And he'd made a noble sacrifice. Surely Primus wouldn't have allowed him to stay within the Pit. Although since Prowl had effectively committed suicide for Sentinel's sake, within the Pit… who knew?

She frowned as she brought the Allspark Core closer to her face, staring into it. It was like looking into a black crystal ball that had just a hint of light in the very center of it. It certainly wasn't as colorful as it had been when she and Oil Slick had first seen it. But why did she feel so… drawn toward it, right now? Why did it feel like there was something she needed to do?

And why did looking at it make her think of Prowl more and more?

CRACK.

Nightbird gasped softly and nearly dropped the object when it suddenly cracked noisily. It sounded like glass shattering, although the Core did not fall apart at all. It merely cracked up, to the point where crack lines could be seen all over the surface, and a few tiny chips here and there fell off onto the floor.

She held it gently in her palm, continuing to gaze at it with unblinking optics. There was something about it that seemed… almost familiar. Then she began to notice a soft, blue-white glow within the center. Indeed, the light within the center of the Core seemed to be getting brighter and stronger, possibly even calling out to her softly.

She opened her mouth, then closed it. It couldn't be… it just couldn't be…

Could it?

"P-Prowl?" she whispered. Indeed, there seemed to be a spark stored within the Core, and it pulsed with life. It seemed that what little energy had been left in the Core was currently sustaining the life-force of the spark, and now that it had cracked, it wouldn't last much longer.

Oil Slick stirred behind her, feeling her strong emotions through their bond. Apparently it had been enough to wake him up. "What is it?" he asked his mate, his drowsiness being pushed aside by concern.

"Prowl!" she exclaimed, turning toward him and showing him what she had in her servos. He sat up and looked at it, and indeed, he too saw the spark within the now cracked Core.

Blinking in surprise, Oil Slick slowly reached over and touched the cracked surface gently with his fingertips, then drew his hand back. "Indeed, it is Prowl," he said. "More specifically… Prowl's spark."

"What should we do?" Nightbird asked him. "If the spark stays in here much longer, it will extinguish."

Oil Slick frowned. "What can we possibly do? He chose to leave his body of his own free will. We can't send it back through the Pit."

"Considering he gave up his life for another… shouldn't he be given the chance to go back?" Nightbird asked, looking at her mate intently.

Oil Slick stared at her for a moment. She had really changed, at least a bit, since before all of this began. Then again, it was safe to say that they'd both been through some life-changing experiences, the biggest one being when they went into the Pit and came out of it again.

Plus Nightbird was technically a mother now, and any good mother would be willing to put the lives of her sparklings ahead of her own. And in some ways, Oil Slick could tell that she had always admired Prowl, deep within her spark. Perhaps in her own way… she almost loved him. This realization made Oil Slick feel slightly jealous, but at the same time he knew he needed to do something.

Besides, he had her heart, not Prowl. And perhaps it was indirectly because of Prowl that they had finally chosen to bond in the first place. So he owed the Autobot ninja that, at least.

"Let us just hope Megatron never finds out we had any part of this," Oil Slick murmured. They both knew that the Decepticon leader considered cyber ninjas who were not working with him a threat, due to their unique powers.

Nightbird leaned toward him and kissed him on the cheek. "Any ideas?" she asked softly.

"Well," Oil Slick said warily, "I think we can both agree that we don't want to go through the Pit again. But… do you think it might be possible to send him on his way, through the Well of All Sparks?"

"Do you think it's possible?" Nightbird whispered. In some ways… she didn't feel worthy to try and access the Well.

Oil Slick grabbed her free servo—the one that wasn't holding the cracked Core—and gave it a re-assuring squeeze. "I think we may be able to, even without the Core being fully powered, since we have the ability," he told her. "We'll simply have to work together, and hopefully… be able to find Prowl's body out there somewhere."

Nightbird nodded. "Let's do it."

She gently set the sphere down on the berth between them, then they both each other's hands and bowed their heads, concentrating for all that they were worth.

Gradually they felt themselves leaving their bodies, in a manner of speaking, and they became aware of a place that was just as white as the Pit was black. It seemed to be an endless white void, although somehow, Nightbird and Oil Slick got the feeling that they were merely on the outer edge of the Well; all of the spirits who dwelled there were much, much deeper in.

Suddenly, before either of them could do much, a voice addressed them directly. "You have done enough; I will take Prowl's spark back to his body, personally."

"Who are you?" Nightbird and Oil Slick asked in unison. Right now, they were acting as one mind and one spirit, taking Prowl's spark in tow. The only way they could gain access to the Well was by merging their energy and abilities.

"I am Yoketron," the voice spoke again. "Both of you have done a good thing. Now give me Prowl's spark, and go. I will handle it from here."

After only a moment's hesitation, the two mates did as they were asked and used their energy to push Prowl's spark forward, into the depths of the white void. They could then just barely make out a faint figure grasping the spark gently between two hands, then it vanished out of sight.

Oil Slick and Nightbird lingered a moment longer, but found they were completely alone now. And probably expected to leave. So without further ado, they retreated back the way they came. They were finished here.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Slipstream sat on her berth in a guarded medbay. Yeah, she was always a bit snippy before, it was one of Starscream's personalities. But now she was furious. That fraggin' wasp guy got a little too territorial in the cell, and she had to punch him in the jaw.

Of course the slagger stung her too. Slipstream growled under her breath.

She needed to leave. Now. She hated being a prisoner to these pathetic Autobots; they didn't even know what to do with her. She couldn't go alone, she'd need back up if they would run after her. Slipstream thought back to all the prisoners she saw at the prison.

Starscream was out of the question for sure. Those Constructicons were too dim witted to really be helpful to anyone. BlackArachnia couldn't have been a candidate but as far as she knew that freak was having a stroke of some sort. And Lugnut? Pffft! The only bot left was Blitzwing.

He wasn't the sanest, but he would be capable of following an escape plan and fighting back. And not do anything completely idiotic. Yes, the face changer would definitely be a worthy partner. He could even lead her to Megatron, and she knew at least one or two of her brothers would be there with the tyrant. Maybe she could trace their spark signatures; they were siblings after all.

As for a time, Slipstream could wait for the funeral she heard about from a nurse. Not many Autobots would be near the prison at that time she was sure.

The femme clone grinned. Yes, this would definitely work for the best.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Optimus Magnus was amazed at how many bots turned up for Prowl's funeral service. Of course all of Prowl's friends were there, along with quite a few bots who'd heard of him.

Optimus made sure to allow Bulkhead, Bumblebee, Jazz, Sari and Ratchet a chance to get the closest, to pay their respects. Dreamscreamer and Arcee accompanied Ratchet, with his mate on his left and his adopted daughter on his right.

The Autobot leader glanced at the faces of all his friends, then glanced out toward the faces of everyone else who'd attended. He could tell that many were shocked, and some were saddened. Although Optimus knew that the ones affected the most were those who'd known Prowl personally, and cared deeply for him.

He looked toward Sari, who was in Bumblebee's arms. The yellow mech seemed to be trying to comfort the girl as she cried softly, her face pressed against his chassis.

Optimus then glanced toward Bulkhead and saw the giant green mech looking sadder than he'd ever seen him. Frankly, all those times when Bulkhead felt bad for scaring humans, breaking things, or for messing up his paintings were nothing compared to the way he looked now. Optimus walked toward the green mech and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. The two of them exchanged glances and Optimus opened his mouth, then closed it. Neither of them could think of anything to say, but they simply nodded slightly at each other.

Ratchet had an arm around his mate, and his other arm was around his adopted daughter. The three of them were looking toward Prowl's casket, although none of them said a word. They simply stood there in silence. Dreamscreamer sniffled a little and Ratchet held her close, but otherwise they remained silent and still.

Optimus finally cleared his throat, and stepped toward the podium. He was supposed to make a speech in order to honor the memory of Prowl and to acknowledge everything the ninja had done. But how could one possibly acknowledge a unique individual, not to mention a friend, in one speech? Optimus simply hoped that his words would do Prowl justice, because even though Prowl sometimes wasn't the most social bot in the world… there were many, many good qualities about him, and he was a very gifted and talented individual.

Was.

Somehow that word just seemed so odd. Prowl had been alive and fine just a short time ago, and he had survived many battles. Yet somehow he simply died in his room of all places, cause unknown? Not only did that not make sense, it wasn't right.

Optimus realized that the crowd before him was quieting down, and he was expected to begin his speech. He cleared his throat self-consciously and was just about to say the opening line of his speech, when an audio-deafening scream could be heard nearby.

Heads turned and then there was a series of gasps, yelps, exclamations and screeches—not to mention widening optics and pointing fingers. Startled and confused, Optimus turned and looked in the direction of where everyone was looking and pointing.

Optimus gasped and blinked his optics several times. The casket was open and… Prowl was sitting up.

…Prowl was sitting up.

And he was looking around.

The ninja had a disoriented look on his face, and he looked slightly confused. He glanced around at each of his friends, who stood nearby with widened optics and mouths agape.

Prowl's gaze finally settled on Optimus, who had stepped away from the podium to get a better look at the ninja-bot. "Have I… interrupted something?" Prowl murmured.

Optimus heard Sari suck in a big gulp of air. Arcee seemed to be clutching her spark chamber, her optics wide and seemed to be almost spooked, and Ratchet was trying to sooth her down.

Just then, the sound of laughter filled the air. Heads turned toward Dreamscreamer. "He's not gone!" she exclaimed simply, and continued to crack up.

Then, in spite of himself… Optimus burst out laughing as well.


	28. Chapter 28

"Excellent," Megatron murmured as he looked over the still, motionless form of Sentinel Prime—now newly renamed Nemesis Prime, given a new identity and a new purpose, plus a new appearance. If Megatron hadn't known any better, he would have thought Optimus Magnus was standing before him right now.

Right at this moment, Nemesis was deep in stasis. Now that his reprogramming was complete, he would stay that way until they arrived at their destination. Megatron had already had the coordinates punched in so that Omega Supreme could transwarp directly to Cybertron at his command. However, he wanted to ask Soundwave a few questions first, to make sure all was in the ready.

"Are you certain he remembers nothing about his former life?" Megatron asked.

"He remembers nothing," Soundwave droned in his monotone voice. "His time in the Pit left him stunned and traumatized, making him wanting to forget everything about his previous life. He gave almost no resistance to being reprogrammed."

"Very good," Megatron said, nodding in approval. "But is there any chance at all that his old personality may re-assert itself?" he asked after a moment. Considering how many other plans had gone wrong, he wanted to try and consider every angle that might go wrong ahead of time.

"Perhaps if he spends too much time around someone he held deep feelings for," Soundwave answered, glancing thoughtfully in the sleeping Nemesis Prime's direction. "But I have programmed him to suppress and ignore such feelings should he encounter a familiar presence, and to keep all conversations short and to the point."

"Excellent," Megatron said. He opened his mouth to speak again, but then he suddenly glanced downward in annoyance. It seemed that Ravage was rubbing his head against the Decepticon leader's leg for some reason. Megatron scowled in annoyance, but otherwise ignored the little robot. Ravage opted to move away a few seconds later anyway, apparently disliking being glared at.

"Alright, once we reach Cybertron, we will launch an attack on their main city, which will create the diversion that Nemesis will need to slip in and take out Optimus, then take his place," Megatron said. He then turned and headed out of Soundwave's lab, going toward the main control room. He was going to give the order to transwarp to Cybertron.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Hearing a commotion outside, Slipstream glanced out the window in the medbay. Apparently something was not right as bots on the streets were either running and screaming or laughing into hysterics. Quite frankly, she didn't give a slag. All the seeker knew was that this was her chance to escape and get Blitzwing.

Quietly Slipstream easily broke her cuffs and broke the window. Although the venom had made her a bit sluggish, she did not lose her motor skills. She transformed and flew away without much trouble to her surprise. Down below a crowd was gathering, but Slipstream did not care to see. She needed to get to that prison.

A short while later Slipstream made it to her destination and, like she predicted, there were few guards there. She landed on the roof and tried to contact Blitzwing. Thanks to Starscream she had a restricted code that only high ranking Decepticons could decipher. Hopefully no one bothered to scan him for such an advantage. And they didn't.

"Blitzwing this is Slipstream. Stay in you're current position and I'll get you out of there."

"Vhat?"

"Just do as I say!"

"Oooo, someone's snippy today! AHAHAHAHA!"

Slipstream cut the link and grumbled. She could only hope the mech would be easy to work with.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"I do not wish to stay here."

Oil Slick raised his optical ridges at his mate's words. Well, not actually at the words themselves, but the tone she used when she said them. She was currently pacing back and fourth in their quarters, appearing quite agitated and—well, dare he say… almost hyper? He frowned, maintaining his silence as he continued to watch her pace.

Nightbird was a trained cyber ninja—not up to Prowl's level of course, but she knew how to maintain her self-discipline and how to keep her emotions in check. But ever since she'd found out that she was sparked with twins, a portion of her self-control and stoic nature had slipped.

Oil Slick knew that this might have simply been a change in his perspective, at least partially, because now that they were bonded, emotions flowed more freely between them. But he also knew that when a femme had sparklings developing inside of her, she was far more… sensitive and empathic, mostly for the sake of the underdeveloped Sparklings. It enabled the sparked femme to detect how her sparklings were faring, whether they were healthy or suffering any form of distress or deforming, and it enabled her to determine when the sparkling was fully developed and ready to leave the mother's spark chamber and be placed in a protoform body.

Of course, it was quite possible that Nightbird was even more sensitive than the average mother, because she had two sparklings to be concerned with. And she was no doubt feeling impulses from both of them. That combined with the fact that her protective maternal instincts were probably kicking in made her as moody and dangerous as a malfunctioning, glitchy battle drone.

"Nightbird, please sit down," Oil Slick told his mate, although he took care to make it sound more like a request than a command. He was getting annoyed with her pacing, but if it somehow made her feel better to keep pacing, he would let her do so. He didn't want her to jump down his throat.

She stopped pacing, and she turned to look at him, but she did not sit down. Oil Slick couldn't blame her. He knew what she was worried about; the same thing that concerned him.

"I will not sit down!" she snipped. She stood there for a full cycle, clenching and unclenching her servos at her sides. Oil Slick blinked at her, for a moment concerned that she might slap him or something. However, she simply resumed pacing.

Sighing, Oil Slick stood from the berth, continuing to watch her. He wished that he knew what he could do or say to sooth down his agitated mate.

"Look, we don't have to stay here," he finally told her. "We just have to be careful about when and how we leave. We don't have to stay with the Decepticons… we don't even have to be Decepticons anymore."

At this she stopped pacing and turned to look at him fully. "What are you suggesting, we become Autobots? HA!"

She started to resume her pacing, but Oil Slick grabbed her arm, pulling her close against him and slipping his free arm around her waist, preventing her from moving. He then gazed into her optics, forcing her to look at him as he said, "No… we can simply be neutrals, at least for the sake of our sparklings. We can then raise them and when they're old enough, let them decide if they want to join one of the factions or not."

Nightbird blinked and seemed to consider what he said. "That… would work," she finally said. "But where would we go?"

"There are places we can hide on Cybertron," Oil Slick answered her gently. "Megatron plans to go there very soon. When he sends everyone out to attack the city… you and I can slip off." He held her more tightly against him, almost protectively. "What do you say?" he asked her.

She lowered her gaze for a moment. She seemed to be thinking it over. Finally, she nodded slowly. "Sounds like a plan," she said.

Oil Slick smiled. "Then we'll do it."

0o0o0o0o0o0

"R-Ratchet!…" Arcee managed to sputter out. She just saw a dead mech spring up like he was only sleeping.

That wasn't right. And it did something with her spark.

"Arcee, its ok, just steady your spark beat! And for Primus's sake Dream, STOP LAUGHING!" The other femme stifled a giggled and hid her face.

"Ratchet, I…think it's time!" Arcee said. Her bondmate gave her a perplexed look before scanning her. His optics widened. "SWEET PRIMUS!" he yelped. She was right; the sparkling was coming! It seemed the…shock caused the little spark to get overexcited and push it's way out. In no time Ratchet transformed and hauled Arcee down the road to a nearby hospital.

"Hey, wait for me!" cried Dreamscreamer. Although she saw many others transform so easily, she was having trouble with that factor. Still she managed somehow and eventually caught up to Ratchet.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Stop moving you glitchhead!" Slipstream hissed. Blitzwings stasis cuffs were not as simple to break as hers had been, but it would be easier if Random hadn't taken control and begin to dance. The thrill of escaping and returning to the Decepticons provoked his crazy side to come up and show his enthusiasm.

"Ze Autoscum can take mein life, but zey can nefer take mien FRREEEEEEEEEEEEDOOOOOOOOOOOOM!" At that he cackled insanely.

"SHUT UP!" Frustrated enough Slipstream aimed her blaster at the cuffs and finally broke them off. Changing to Icy, Blitzwing stood and rubbed his wrists. "Vell, zhat veels better." Without warning Angry switched over. "NOW LET'S BEAT ZOME AUTOBOTS!" His rescuer grabbed him by the chin and pulled him to her face.

"Listen you psycho!" Slipstream hissed, "I'm only helping you so I can get out of here. Either we escape quietly or I'll use you as bait!"

Angry looked like he were about to blast her away, but Icy came back into control. "I'm sorry for ze trouble. Now where do ve go?" Slipstream smirked.

"Just follow me." So they walked out the hallway.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Ratchet drove up to the side entrance of the hospital he worked at in the heart of Iacon, his lights and sirens flashing on his Earth vehicle mode. Once he arrived he used the magnetic extensions of his arms to carefully get her out of the back of his ambulance mode and gently lowered her to the ground.

Once he was certain Arcee was out of him, he transformed back into his robotic mode and helped his mate to her feet. He then saw the looks that some bystanders were giving them, and he realized that his lights and sirens were more annoying on Cybertron than anything else. However, it was a habit he'd picked up on Earth when there was an emergency or when he was in a hurry, because it was one of the few things humans would respond to in order to get them out of his way.

"Come on," he said, gently grabbing hold of Arcee and supporting her as they walked into the giant building. Ratchet was vaguely aware of their adopted daughter shouting at them as she gradually caught up. It seemed she was having trouble transforming into her motorcycle mode so she'd simply ran. A small part of Ratchet felt slightly bad for ignoring her like this, but he knew that she could handle herself in a pinch; right now Arcee was his main concern.

"Ratchet… don't forget Dream," Arcee managed, although she sounded strained. Then she gasped and clutched at her spark chamber.

Ratchet sighed and was feeling anxious. Personally he wanted to be with Arcee at every moment until the sparkling came out. But a couple medics were heading to her now to take her into the maternity ward. That, and he wanted Arcee to feel everything was ok while she gave spark. That meant staying with Dream.

"Don't worry, she'll be fine. I'll come in later." Ratchet said with a warm smile. Arcee gave a painful grin as the other medics carried her off. Then he turned to see Dreamscreamer running up to him.

"Ratchet! Is Arcee ok?"

"She'll be fine," Ratchet told her. He frowned slightly as he looked at her. She seemed rather exhausted and he knew that she had used up more energon than she would have if she'd simply used her vehicle mode to keep up with him. "When this is over," he told her, "we're going to have to work on helping you learn to transform."

She frowned up at him. "I'm just not good at it," she said, almost timidly.

"You will be, someday soon, kiddo," he assured her, placing a gentle servo on her shoulder. "Come on." He then lead her down the corridor toward the nearest energon dispenser unit. He got her a glass of energon and handed it to her. "Here," he said. "Take this and drink it slowly. Sit over there in the waiting area." He pointed toward a row of nearby seats. She took the glass, merely nodding and doing as he said.

Ratchet figured she would be alright now, so long as she drank her energon. Still he didn't feel comfortable leaving the young femme alone, and he knew Arcee would never forgive him if he left Dream alone while she was delivering their sparkling.

"Hey," he called out to one of the passing nurses, "would you mind staying with my daughter over there while I'm with my mate?"

The blue-colored Autobot glanced from Ratchet to Dreamscreamer and back to Ratchet again. "I'm on duty," she pointed out. "In fact I'm assisting with your mate's delivery."

"Then I will take your place," Ratchet snipped. "I want you to stay with my daughter, Moonracer." Then, on a more gentler note, he said, "Please, I don't want to miss this."

Dream waved shyly at Moonracer as Ratchet ran to Arcee's birthing room. He knew exactly where she was from their bond, and at the moment he felt her pain and anxious worry. That made him run even faster.

When he made it to the room, the doctor in charge tried to protest. However Ratchet was NOT on the mood to argue.

"Look pal! I've been treating war wounds on soldiers since before you first came online, and I'm sure as Pit I'm going to see the birth of my first child!" As the old bot expected the doctor let him stay. He rushed to Arcee's side and held her servo.

"Don't worry, Dream's under a nurse's supervision and I'm here with you."

Arcee squeezed his servo as pain erupted below her chassis. However, she did feel reassured by his presence. After a moment the pain eased down a little, and she smiled in spite of herself. "I was… just thinking…"

"Thinking what?" Ratchet asked her.

"Dreamscreamer… hates her… name." Arcee winced as another wave of pain lashed through the region of her upper torso, but she forced herself to keep talking. "Why not just call her Dream. We have been anyway."

Ratchet thought for a moment. In a way he couldn't believe she was talking about their adopted daughter or even thinking about her so much when she was about to deliver their first sparkling. But perhaps it showed that she'd truly accepted Dreamscreamer as a daughter.

"Let's talk about that more after all this is over," Ratchet told her. "Now… just try to relax." He glanced up as one of the nurses wheeled in a new protoform body, the one which was intended for their sparkling.

"Okay," Ratchet said, turning his attention back to Arcee, "I think we're ready. Just relax and stay completely still." With that, he and the other doctor in the room began to gently pry open her spark chamber.

"AHH!" Arcee yelped. She bit it back but still groaned as her chamber was opened. She could feel the little spark extension straining to rip away from her own life force. It was like extreme heat searing through her chamber as something thrashed around it.

Then suddenly, her chamber snapped open by itself, and the extension slowly floated out from its former home. The further it went away from Arcee's spark to tear itself free, the more torturous it felt.

Ratchet was the one who caught the spark, handling it gently enough so that it wouldn't be damaged but firmly enough so that it couldn't get away. Arcee shrieked as the line connecting it to her spark suddenly snapped from her. Ratchet wanted to comfort her but his full attention was on getting the sparkling safely to its new protoform body.

He placed the spark within the spark chamber of the protoform and then quickly closed it up. A few seconds passed, during which time the spark settled into its body, then the body took on the form of a unique appearance all its own.

In fact, the new individual took on an appearance that looked like a decent cross-between of Arcee and Ratchet.

Slowly, the small sparkling-protoform onlined it optics and began to squirm. The little guy began to wail and Ratchet held up his firsborn. After all his experience in the medical field, it took only one look at the red and yellow newspark in his arms to find his gender.

"It's a mech...a son," Ratchet turned and walked to Arcee, his own optics holding a form of tenderness she never saw before.

"We have a son! Arcee, he's perfect, and he takes after your helm and...oh Arcee, he has your optics..." The new father trailed off as he handed him to his mate's own arms, never looking away from the child.

"What should we name him?" Ratchet asked softly as he stroked the now quieting newspark's chin.

Arcee cradled the sparkling in her arms, a loving smile forming on her mouth as she murmured, "Skidraider."


	29. Chapter 29

Optimus Magnus had just arrived in his office with Prowl when he noticed the communication terminal on his desk beeping. The black-mech ninja had just been given a clean bill of health after a brief checkup from a medic, and now the Magnus wanted to talk to him in private. But first he had to check on this message; it seemed to be urgent.

"Wonder what this is about," Optimus murmured mostly to himself as he sat down in his office chair. He turned the small, portable viewscreen toward him and tapped a key, ordering the machine to play the message he'd received while he was away. It better not be Bumblebee asking for batteries again, he thought.

However, it was not from Bumblebee. In fact, the message apparently came from one of the scout vessels that had been patrolling the sector where Earth was located. Curious, Optimus listened closely as the message played itself. It was text-only, but the message was clear and simple. Earth had been attacked by, apparently by Decepticons. Optimus wondered if it could have been Megatron in Omega Supreme, but what he read next in the message caused his spark to skip a pulse in his chassis.

Prowl noticed the expression on Optimus's face and, having observed the leader in many different situations, knew that that look was not good. Frowning, the ninja asked, "What is it? What does the message say?"

"It's not good," Optimus told him. "Earth was apparently attacked by Decepticons, and also… I just found out that a few key individuals were mentioned on some of Earth's television broadcasts as having been killed in the attack. The Autobot scout team chose to relay their names to me in case I considered it important… which I do."

"So who were they?" Prowl prompted when the Magnus fell silent.

"The Mayor, several of his assistants… Captain Fanzone… and…" Optimus hesitated ever so slightly before saying the final name, "Professor Isaac Sumdac."

Prowl gasped softly, stiffening a little at the news. They had never spoken with the Mayor of Detroit all that much, but they did knew he was the leader of that district and they had seen him briefly on some occasions. Prowl was fond of Captain Fanzone, and considered him a friend. Professor Sumdac was Sari's father and he was a human who had helped them the most, even though he had assisted the Decepticons as well. Although that could be blamed on his own ignorance and naivety.

"When did this happen?" Prowl finally asked, a grim edge evident in his tone.

"Just a few mega-cycles ago apparently," Optimus said, never taking his optics off the screen. He stared at it and continued to read the text message, hoping that somehow he had read it wrong, or that he could will the words to rearrange themselves and say something else. Anything else at all. But their message, and the meaning of the message, was very clear and very plain. There was no mistake or error on his part.

"I should have been there," Optimus said aloud, before he could stop himself. He frowned, finally turning away from the screen. "If only I'd still been there—or someone had been there… maybe those people would still be alive. We were able to hold off those clones of Omega Supreme when we were there, after all."

He sighed, shaking his head and beginning to pace the office. "I should have foreseen this!" he said, pounding his fist against one of the walls, and then resuming his pacing. "I should have ordered someone to go back there, to keep an optical sensor on things. But I got so caught up in everything that's been going on with BlackArachnia, those fraggin' nanites, the Decepticons in general—"

"Optimus," Prowl cut in, causing the Magnus to stop and look at him, slightly surprised. Prowl had always called him "Prime" or, nowadays, "Magnus", but it was only on rare occasions when the ninja bot called him by name rather than rank. "I know how you feel, but… none of us could have foreseen this."

"I know that, none of us could have foreseen any of these things that happened!" Optimus said and resumed his pacing. "Who would have imagined you would now be the best cyber ninja there is, or that I would be the Magnus right now? Who would have imagined that we would have guarded the Allspark for a while, on Earth—and who would have imagined that at least a dozen or so other things would have happened, that happened to us?"

The Magnus stopped pacing and sighed. He glanced thoughtfully at the Magnus hammer, which was leaning against the edge of the desk. He walked over and carefully picked it up, fingering it with his servo. "I'm still not sure if I'm cut out for this," he muttered.

"You have done a good job so far."

Optimus looked at the ninja. "Prowl, I just don't feel like I'm as… on top of things as I should be. I still don't know what to do about the Dinobots, the three Constructicons are still in prison because I haven't had a chance to help them much, and the Council and I still haven't quite decided what to do about the Decepticons, even though I've managed to gain custody of BlackArachnia and we gave Starscream a fair sentence. Plus Megatron still has Omega Supreme, and is still out there somewhere. And now, I find out that Earth has been brutally attacked, possibly by Megatron himself, and several humans we knew on Earth are dead now."

He sighed, pausing in his rant and leaning against the wall. It was somewhat awkward to do so, due to the fact that he had wings. But over the past few months he had truly grown used to them, and he'd even found that flying from point A to point B was sometimes easier and more gratifying than using his truck mode.

"And how am I going to explain this to Sari?" he murmured. He then felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, and turned to see Prowl looking at him with concern.

"Remember that the rest of us are here to help you," the ninja said. "In any way we can."

In spite of himself, Optimus almost chuckled but couldn't quite manage it. However, he did smile a bit. "That is funny… coming from someone who was dead just a while ago."

Prowl said nothing, although he did look a bit thoughtful.

"So… tell me," Optimus said as he walked back over to his office chair and slowly sank down into it, "what happened to you anyway? Do you know?"

"It is… complicated," Prowl said. "And some things I am a bit… unsure of myself."

"Well, fill me in as best you can," Optimus told the ninja. "And have a seat." He gestured at the seat directly across from him.

Prowl sat, but didn't speak right away. What could he say? Would the Magnus even believe anything he said? Although he felt that Optimus was possibly one of the few bots he could talk to—besides Jazz, that is—because while the Magnus was not a cyber ninja, he did have an open mind about some things. Especially since Optimus had been through and seen some things that many other bots had not, plus he had been brought back to life as well, one time.

Perhaps I should simply be grateful I am explaining this to Optimus Magnus rather than Ultra Magnus, Prowl thought, then proceeded to explain as best he could.

When he finished, Optimus simply sat there in stunned silence for nearly two full cycles. "So basically… you're telling me that when you meditate… you can actually commune with individuals in the Pit or the Well of All Sparks, and… you helped two Decepticons get Sentinel's spark out of the Pit?"

Prowl nodded.

"But," Optimus continued the recap, trying to make sure he understood this correctly, "you had to sever yourself from your own body to be able to do that, to give Sentinel another chance at life… but your spark ended up somewhere besides the Pit?"

"Yes."

The Autobot leader shook his head. "And you mentioned that the last thing you remember before… waking up at your funeral, was Yoketron talking to you."

"That is correct."

"You know, if I didn't know you so well, and if I hadn't seen a lot of things for myself… I would think that you were either crazy or making this all up."

"But you do know that I am not."

"Frankly, nothing surprises me anymore."

A brief silence fell between them.

"What did your master say," Optimus finally asked, "before you… came back to life?"

Prowl frowned. "I do not recall clearly. I think he told me that he was taking me back, and that… I did well."

"You mean your master wanted you to bring Sentinel back to life?"

"I… think so. But I am unsure."

"But why?"

"I do not know." Prowl frowned deeply.

"Then do you think maybe you can ask him?" Optimus asked, shaking his head again.

"I would prefer more time to… rest and recover before I try to contact one of the other realms again," Prowl said. "I am in need of energon and a recharge, plus my processor is a but… foggy."

"I see. Well, I suppose you've been through enough." Optimus rose and patted his friend on the shoulder. "Go and get some refuel, and get some rest. But," he added with the corner of his mouth quirking upward, "we'd better not find you dead in your quarters this time around."

Prowl smiled slightly. "You shall not." He rose, but hesitated. "Would you… like me to tell Sari about the attack on Earth, and… her father?"

Optimus thought about it for a moment. "Somehow I think I should be the one to tell her," he murmured quietly.

"Do you still feel responsible?"

"Maybe a little," Optimus admitted.

"Don't. I don't think Sari will blame you at all."

The Magnus turned and glanced out the window. "I can only hope you're right." With that, he sat down and, with great reluctance, began the process of tracking down Sari. Eventually he found that she had gone back to the home which she shared with Bulkhead and Bumblebee.

He smirked when he learned that Bulkhead was not home—the giant green mech was rarely at home, since he was very busy with his job. His expertise on space bridges was very valuable, especially since he was helping to re-engineer some of the designs and schematics in order to make them better.

Bumblebee, on the other hand, was almost always home or out doing something or other… since he had no job.

And it was Bee who answered the call when Optimus contacted their home. "Hey there, Boss Bot, what's up?" the bright, yellow mech asked. "Oh hey, there's Prowl!" Bee waved excitedly. "Good to see you up and about, ninja-bot! At that funeral… well, we all knew we were gonna miss ya! Thankfully though, there's been no real deaths!"

Prowl and Optimus exchanged glances. Leave it to Bee to say the wrong thing at the wrong time, even when he was totally unaware of it.

Noticing the looks on their faces, Bee frowned. "What? Did I say something wrong?"

"I… need to talk to Sari," Optimus said slowly. "It's important. Is she there?"

"Um, yeah she's here… I'll go get her," Bee replied, looking confused.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Once Megatron gave the command, the mighty Autobot ship Omega Supreme arrived at its destination, almost in the blink of an optical sensor. But he'd taken care to make sure that the ship did not arrive too close to Cybertron, because he did not want to be detected until he was sure all was in the ready.

He then made sure that all of his troops were ready to go. Lugnut, the two Starscream clones, Team Char, Shockwave, Soundwave and his little minions, and the two Cyber Ninjas seemed to be all in readiness. And Nemesis Prime seemed all ready to go as well.

Megatron couldn't help but notice that something seemed… slightly off about Nightbird, though. He knew that she was bonded to Oil Slick, but she seemed to be a bit more tense than a cyber ninja would normally be. In many ways, he did not care about her health or well-being at all, but he was concerned with the success of this mission.

However, he was certain that the Decepticons would be able to carry out the mission. They weren't going to try and conquer Iacon, after all; they were merely going to create a diversion so that Nemesis Prime could slip in and take out Optimus Magnus in order to impersonate him. Once Nemesis was in place, Megatron would begin giving him orders.

And so long as Nightbird could fulfill her task as part of the diversion, he couldn't care less what happened to her. She could go offline for all he cared; if she proved to be weak or impaired in any way, then she would receive the fate that belonged to those too weak to defend themselves in battle.

"Prepare to launch in the shuttles," Megatron ordered his troops via their commlinks. "Once the attack has begun, I will send Nemesis Prime into the city shortly afterwards."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

For a long moment Ratchet and Arcee admired their little Skidraider. As Ratchet had said before, he had his mother's helm, complete with her unique bun like audio receptors. The newspark was definitely built like his father too, with a wide chest plate and a gray face. He was red too like him, with traces of yellow, which his mother said was from her side of the family.

The couple was disrupted from their moment when Moonracer entered the bay. She gave a sheepish grin when she saw the red medic give her an annoyed look.

"Excuse me, but I believe you have a visitor," the nurse explained. She moved from the door and Dreamscreamer slowly walked into the room. Mainly hesitant from Ratchet's look at Moonracer, the green and blue femme cautiously stepped towards her adopted parents and the sparkling.

"Don't worry Dream, you can sit here," Arcee said patting at the side of her berth with her free servo. With more enthusiasm she got closer and did as her mother said. Dreamscreamer looked closer at the bundle in Arcee's arms. Although Skidraider was awake, he was not squirming much. In fact, he was staring back at his older sister with a curious look on his faceplate. He then proceeded to stretch out his arms towards her and whine. She looked friendly enough anyway.

"Can I?…" Dreamscreamer asked. Ratchet nodded, adding, "Just be sure to support his head!"

Arcee rolled her optics as she carefully handed Skidraider to Dreamscreamer. At first he was settled in her arms a bit awkwardly, but scooted to a more comfortable position. The two looked at each other after that, and both made cooing sounds to one another.

"Hey," Dreamscreamer blurted, "what's his name?"

"Skidraider dear," Arcee said.

"Well…can I get a new name?"

The bondmates looked at each other, and through their link they knew it was the right time to rename Dreamscreamer. Later in the future they would tell her of her past, but for now…she was no longer Dreamscreamer. Far from it. She was always hopeful, completely innocent, and would sometimes bring up with what she would do in the future, confident in every aspect.

"What about Dreamer?" Ratchet brought up. Arcee smiled in agreement, and Dreamer loved her new designation. The family of four then sat in a content silence as Skidraider gurgled and outstretched his little servos to the world around him, as if ready to explore its many paths.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Sari was a complete ruin on the living room floor. Outside fellow Cybertronians continued on with their lives, cursing, laughing, oblivious to a certain techno organic's sorrow from a devastating loss. A unique mixture of oil and tears streamed down her face and metallic cheek. The red head wanted to go offline. She hadn't seen her father for months; and she promised to visit him. Where was the justice in that? The thought only made her shed more oil and teardrops from her optics.

"Sari?" She vaguely heard Bumblebee saying her name. She then faintly heard him talking to Optimus, saying something like, "Sorry Big-Bot, she seems to be taking it hard… call you back, okay?" Then the next thing she knew, he was leaning over her. "Sari, are you alright?"

Although she was gulping in air from her sobbing, she managed to say, "Dad's...d-dead! Not gone, but DEAD!"

As she continued to cry, Bumblebee gently scooped her up into his servos—which was just a little more difficult than it used to be, because ever since her upgrade she had been taller and had longer limbs. Plus Bee was at a loss, because this was much more serious than when her dad was simply missing. Her dad wasn't coming back this time.

"Sari… I'm so sorry. And I wish I knew what to say. But… cry as much as you need to. I'm here."

Bumblebee placed Sari next to his spark for warmth, but tensed up when she snuggled her head against his chamber. When his friend silently cried against his chest...that was something.

"F-first Prowl… but then he came back!" Sari sniffled, wrapping her arms around her face as she leaned closer against her yellow friend's chassis. "But… but…" She couldn't speak anymore as another sob erupted from her throat.

But Bee understood what she was saying. First there had been the shock of what happened to Prowl, then everything turned out alright. Now… this happened.

Bumblebee knew it was impossible to bring an organic back to life, especially after an attack like that. He shivered at the images projected in his processor and subconsciously hugged Sari in a tighter embrace. "Uh, Bee?..."

He glanced down at her. "Yeah?"

She sniffled, resting her cheek against his chassis as she looked up at him through her tears. "Thanks," she managed. "And please don't ever leave me. You've always been my best friend in the whole world. In the whole universe, even."

Bee bent his neck to bring his face closer to Sari. "I'll always be here for you," he told her. "I promise."

Without warning, Sari reached up and touched his faceplate with her hands. Her fingers seemed very tiny in some ways, but that didn't stop her. She pressed her lips against his lower lip component, kissing him.

Then almost just as quickly, she pulled back, breaking the kiss. Bumblebee blinked, as though trying to process what had just happened.

"Thanks," Sari said simply, and curled up in his arms.

"Uh… thank you," Bumblebee stammered. For once, he seemed speechless.

A few moments later, Sari fell asleep in his arms.


	30. Chapter 30

Starscream lay on his berth, the only thing in the bland cell devoid of anything else. He would do anything to have someone to talk to. Just someone to keep his mind busy at least...

Chromia came to mind, but the seeker ground his dental plates. Before his time was up, he wanted to be as far away from that pathetic femme. He had to WORK for her. A tiny Autobot! And even Meg—

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMM!

"Sweet Primus on high!" Starscream shrieked in such a pitch that earned him his name. He was thrown off the berth from some sort of explosion, but since there were no windows in the stockade, the prisoner had no way of telling what caused it.

"What the slag is going on?" the mech demanded while banging on a wall.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Come on Dreamer, you can do it!" encouraged Arcee, "Just focus on your alt mode's image!"

Dreamer grunted as she focused on transforming. Ratchet was true to his word that he would have her work on it after the sparkling was born. Skidraider, who was being held by his mother, watched on with a perplexed expression on his faceplate.

"Dreamer, either you transform or you walk home," Ratchet said coolly. Arcee huffed at him and through their bond he felt waves of displeasure. The gruff medic shrugged.

"Either she learns or she walks," he replied. Dreamer was now...what was it?...oh yeah, angry.

"Well...I'll just walk then! Obviously I'm not smart enough to do anything right!" she spat. Ratchet raised an optic ridge. He truly wished for his daughter to excel in the basic Cybertronian life style, but if she wanted to do it the hard way...

"Fine, but you can find your own way home."

"Ratchet!" Arcee argued. Skidraider was now fidgeting from the tense environment.

"Hey, if Dreamer wants to walk, she can walk. Besides the apartment isn't too far from here," he explained. At that the young femme stood firm.

"Yeh, I won't get lost! Now off I go!" she exclaimed. She began to walk the opposite direction when Ratchet yelled out, "Hey kid, it's the other way!"

"I know!" she retorted, "I'm just waiting for you guys to go so I can walk alone!" Ratchet sighed as he and Arcee transformed and drove away, with Skidraider in Arcee's front seat.

"I don't need you!" shouted Dreamer as her adopted parents drove away. She waited until they turned the corner and counted for 25 Nan clicks (that was the highest Arcee had taught her to count). The head strong femme then proceeded to walk her way back home. She was certain she would do just fine. Besides, a moment away from that grumpy bot would do her some good.

Yes, Dreamer truly loved her new family. They were all she had really; but that didn't mean they were perfect. Arcee was kind and patient, yet she could get very boring, especially during her tutoring hours. Ratchet, as we all know, was just too strict and tough for a spirited young femme like Dreamer. He seemed to put her through a lot in so little time. Did the war vet ever wonder how hard this all was for her?

Dismissively Dreamer shook her head. She loved them, and they loved her. For now she could just take a break and just enjoy the peace and quiet…

Wait, what was that noise? Strangely there were screams and sounds of lasers going off in the opposite direction from Dreamer. She was torn between running for Ratchet and investigating the pollution of noise.

Curiosity got the best of her when she ran to the source of screaming. Above in the sky was an enormous looking mech, even big by Cybertronian standards. He was firing at the buildings, causing fires and utter destruction. Not to mention terror.

Dumbstruck at the site, Dreamer could only stand rooted on the spot with her mouth gaping open. Never before had she seen anything so…great.

She was knocked into her senses when some others shoved their way past her, running for dear life. She tried to dart back to the apartment, but with all the chaos she didn't know which way was which.

"MOVE!" Shouted a mech. He shoved Dreamer out of his way, causing her to fall through a hole that was blasted into the ground. When she landed, she saw long tunnels all around her. Instinctively the petrified femme aimlessly ran about these tunnels, hoping to find a safer place.

And she had to admit one thing to Ratchet: Maybe it's better to have an alt mode than walk.

She ran through the tunnels frantically, not paying any real attention to where she was going; she was just trying to get to safety and find a way out of the tunnels, if possible.

Eventually she found her way out of the tunnels, but she came out in what seemed to be a deserted area. Part of her processor took note that there were apparently a few entrances to these tunnels around—especially considering she'd gone in one and come out of another. But that wasn't important now; she had to keep moving.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Nightbird crouched just above the entrance to one of the ancient tunnels below Iacon City. She and Oil Slick were in a largely abandoned area of the city, and since many bots were fleeing for their lives—or going to aide in defending the city—that meant that this area of the city was even more deserted than usual.

Nightbird sat on the ground beside the tunnel's mouth, looking her optical sensors alert to make certain no one was coming. She did not want to be seen. Right at this moment, Oil Slick was down in the tunnel, scouting it out and making certain it was safe.

Several cycles ticked by, during which time Nightbird saw nothing. Eventually though, she could make out a figure running in her general direction. She tensed and rose up to stand ready and alert, just in case someone spotted her. She grabbed her laser sword in one hand, and a few of her silver star-shaped throwing weapons in her other hand.

However, it seemed that the running figure was roaming aimlessly, almost… in a crazed panic. The individual didn't even seem to take any notice of her. Could it be someone who was frightened from the attack, and unsure where to go? Perhaps it was a younger bot, frightened by the sudden attack…

Nightbird narrowed her optics as the bot drew closer, more within her visual range to see more clearly. There was something oddly familiar about this bot… it appeared to be a femme, and a fairly young one at that, though almost old enough to be considered a legal adult…

The Decepticon ninja's spark skipped a pulse when she realized who it was. No… it couldn't be… Dreamscreamer?

Indeed it certainly seemed to be her… Nightbird took a step back and stopped herself just in time from walking backwards into the open mouth of the tunnel's entrance. Had she taken one more step back, she would have fallen in.

Memories flooded back into Nightbird's processor… memories of when Dreamscreamer had been a youngling amongst the Decepticon ranks, timid and unsure of herself. Megatron had thought that the youngling was useless, and would never make a good Decepticon, but Nightbird had taken the femme under her wing, so to speak.

Nightbird had then trained the young femme the ways of the cyber ninja, gently encouraging the youngling to get her past her timid shyness and firmly instructing her to be the best fighter she could be, and soon enough even Megatron saw that the femme definitely had potential.

However, Nightbird had eventually begun to use the youngling for her own advantage, almost as an experiment. Once it seemed that Megatron was not going to win the war against the Autobots as quickly and easily as he thought, Nightbird began to get more concerned with her own fate, and whether or not her belief system was correct.

And that was when she'd chosen to tamper with Dreamscreamer's memories, and install a virus into her systems. It had been a plan to lure out Prowl and face him in combat… to see whether or not a cyber ninja who'd chosen to stay aligned with the Autobot faction could be strong enough to beat her.

Nightbird's mind snapped back to the present as she continued to watch Dreamscreamer run closer to her, the young femme still running blindly and aimlessly. Indeed, so much had happened since she'd last seen the femme. For one thing, Nightbird now had a completely different outlook on her existence, and life in general… not to mention she had helped to bring one Autobot back to life, and then she saved Prowl's life. Now she was on the run with her mate, and she was going to be a mother…

Part of her regretted what she'd done to Dreamscreamer, yet part of her did not. After all, every single decision in life, even the regrettable ones that brought shame or harmed others, helped shape events and shape an individual. Nightbird's choices brought her to where she was right now, and her choices had helped shape her into who she was right at this moment.

And she had no regrets about her current choices… she wanted very much to "disappear" with Oil Slick so that they could be left in peace, at least until their sparklings had grown. It was unfortunate that other individuals had had to suffer for her to reach this point, but… she couldn't change the past.

So be it, then.

She frowned as Dreamscreamer finally seemed to spot her. Part of her wondered if the young femme might some recognize her, but there was nothing on her face that suggested any sort of recognition. Of course, Nightbird thought. In order for her to survive the virus and be up and running… they would have had to completely wipe her memory core and purge her systems. She's… probably like a child now.

Dreamscreamer was still a child in some ways anyway—well, not a young child, she was almost old enough to be considered a legal adult by Cybertronian standards. But Nightbird was fairly confident that the young femme would be able to regain everything she'd lost in no time. Despite being a bit… temperamental sometimes, Dreamscreamer was always sharp and quick to grasp things. And since she was almost an adult, and her processor was more developed and more complex than that of a sparkling, she could probably relearn things very quickly.

Still… Nightbird felt that maybe, just maybe… she owed the femme something. Perhaps she owed her a step in the right direction. Cyber ninjas were very rare, because it took a certain kind of… gift. Dreamscreamer had had it; she had mastered processor over matter, after all, and could possibly be a great cyber ninja one day… under the right training.

And despite what Nightbird had done to her, Dreamscreamer now had a second chance at life, so to speak. And maybe she could become a great cyber ninja indeed…

I'm not the one to train her though, Nightbird thought. I already taught her once, and then I only used her. Plus now… I need to focus on my own children. But perhaps Prowl can train her.

Smiling slightly, Nightbird moved forward to intercept Dreamscreamer. The younger femme yelped as Nightbird stepped into her path and grabbed her shoulders.

"Hey!" Dreamscreamer exclaimed, trying to pull away. "I need to—" She blinked, looking at Nightbird. "Who are you? ARE YOU A DECEPTICON?" She suddenly seemed frightened, and tried to pull away.

"No," Nightbird said, taking a moment to glance down at her insignia. She then glanced back at Dreamscreamer. "Not anymore." Nightbird gazed into her former apprentice intently, never letting up even as Dreamscreamer flinched and tried to pull away again.

"We knew each other once… Dreamscreamer. Do you remember me at all?" Nightbird felt a flicker of hope in spite of herself.

"N-no… how do you know my name?" the blue-and-green-and-silver femme blurted. "A-and my name's not Dreamscreamer anymore."

Nightbird blinked. "Then what is it?" It was only natural she'd be given a new name…

"D-Dreamer."

"I see." Nightbird cocked her head to one side, but kept a firm grip on the femme. "Dreamscreamer—I mean, Dreamer… I want you to do something for me."

Dreamer stopped struggled quite so much, but still looked frightened and uneasy. "What?" she asked nervously.

"You may not remember me, but… I remember you," Nightbird said slowly. "And you were once very, very good things only a cyber ninja can do. I… want you to try and learn to be a cyber ninja again. I think that was what you wanted once, too." She gripped Dreamer even more firmly, causing her to gasp. "Promise me you'll try… talk to Prowl, or even Jazz. See if one of them will train you."

"Uh…" Dreamer was frightened. She knew that bots who had that purple Decepticon symbol on them were bad—just like the ones who were attacking the heart of Iacon right now. But something about this older femme made her want to go ahead and give the promise… even if she had no idea what she was talking about.

"Promise me!" Nightbird insisted firmly. Then on a slightly softer note, she added, "Please."

"I… I promise," Dreamer blurted even before she realized what she'd said.

"Very good." Nightbird released her. The older femme knew that there was a risk Dreamer would tell someone where she was, but hopefully by that point she and Oil Slick would be too deep within the tunnels to track down easily. To her surprise, Dreamer made no attempt to run away—in fact she just stood there, looking confused and frightened.

"Well, go on!" Nightbird snapped, waving her arms. Dreamer shrieked and ran off, heading in an entirely different direction.

"She'll be fine," Nightbird then murmured to herself, as she began to lower herself down into the tunnel. The attack on the city probably wouldn't last too much longer, and since Dreamer was all the way out here… she'd probably be safe. She could probably handle being along out in this area until someone came for her. Just so long as she didn't do anything stupid….

Nightbird tried to push that thought aside as she finished lowering herself down into the tunnel's entrance on the ladder. She then closed the door over her head.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

Nemesis Prime quickly separated himself from the Decepticons as they proceeded to attack the city. He glanced back and fourth as he went, trying to determine which way to go. Somewhere deep in his memory banks he still contained knowledge and data of where Optimus Magnus, the bot he was going to impersonate, always was.

The Magnus would probably be somewhere in the area of his office, or the council chambers… whichever place he happened to be when the attack started, he might still be near one of those areas. Nemesis growled under his breath. In some ways, perhaps the attack was actually making his job difficult. How was he supposed to find Optimus and bump him off, when the Magnus was, for all he knew, going to join in the battle to help protect the city?

To make matters worse, some of the Autobots who spotted him thought that he was Optimus Magnus. Of course that was a good thing in a way, because it showed that his appearance was perfect. Although a few bots did make remarks about his missing wings… but he was confident that he could come up with an excuse as to why he didn't have wings.

Relying on his old memory tracks, he navigated his way through the city fairly well, ignoring the sounds of explosions and screams that came from off in the distance.

Eventually he came to the building complex where the Magnus's office was located, and he came up toward the front entrance just in time to see Optimus himself coming out of the front, followed by a black-and-gold mech. There were a few others coming out of the building as well, but those two stood out.

Nemesis's former personality was suppressed and submerged for the most part, but he still had memories of the bots he had interacted with back when he was still Sentinel. He knew that the ninja bot was not an easy person to get around, and the said ninja seemed to be staying at Optimus's side. Growling, Nemesis knew that this wasn't going to be easy.

He proceeded to follow Optimus at a discreet distance, hoping for a chance to strike. Eventually Prowl took off in his own direction, apparently intent on rescuing some bots from a building that was in the process of collapsing. Optimus went in a different direction, having spotted one of the Decepticons and was intent to stop him.

Nemesis knew that this was his chance. While Optimus was preoccupied—it looked like he was going after none other than Lugnut, readying the Magnus hammer—Nemesis bolted forward and pounced, tackling him and sending both of them crashing to the ground.

Several onlookers gasped and pointed as the pair tumbled against the ground, wrestling with each other. Indeed, with the exception of the wings, they looked identical. Nemesis managed to wretch the hammer free from Optimus's grasp and hit him over the head with it.

Another nasty explosion rocked the city, sending debris and dust flying in every direction. Most of the onlookers screamed or yelped and began to flee the area. Nemesis hefted Optimus's limp form over his shoulder, carrying the Magnus hammer in his free servo.

Nemesis carried his captive into a dark alleyway, then dropped him down on the ground. "I could definitely use these," he muttered as he began to carefully pry the wings and jet boosters from Optimus's back. If he could put them onto himself, he would be able to impersonate the Magnus just fine.

It took some doing, especially since it was difficult to see what he was doing on his back, and he wasn't quite sure how to hook them up. But nevertheless, he wasn't really planning to fly around anyway; mostly he just wanted them for the look.

Once that was accomplished, he looked down at the body of Optimus Magnus, stroking his chin thoughtfully. It would be so easy to simply end his miserable life right here and now. It would probably only take one strike from the Magnus hammer.

But… he did have his orders. Megatron had ordered that, should Optimus be detained without extensive harm… that Nemesis should simply hand him over to Megatron himself. That way, in case things went awry after Nemesis took Optimus's place… then Megatron would still have a bargaining chip.

And thus, Optimus was far more valuable alive right now.

Nemesis picked up the limp form and threw him over his shoulder again—which was a bit more awkward this time, considering he had wings now. He then bolted out of the alleyway and into the main street, which was clouded with smoke and cluttered with chunks of debris from buildings. He then spotted one of the Starscream clones—he wasn't sure of the name or who it was, nor did he care. All he cared was that he could now dump off Optimus onto someone else.

"Here, take this to Megatron, since he wants it," Nemesis said, practically thrusting the limp body toward him.

"AHHH!" the clone exclaimed, looking frightened. "He… he's not going to attack me, is he?"

Nemesis rolled his optics. Great, out of all the Decepticons he'd come across Skywarp, the cowardly Starscream, to dump Optimus onto. Knowing Skywarp, he was probably trying to hide from battle for fear of getting hurt or something. "He can't hurt you!" Nemesis said impatiently. "Look at him, he's unconscious. He won't do a thing. Now take him before I knock you into a million pieces!"

Skywarp screamed at the threat, hastily grabbing Optimus's body and blasting off from the ground. Nemesis smirked as he watched him go; if there was anything that could get the coward to do what you want, it was threats.

"Now," Nemesis said, mostly to himself as he turned around, "I have a planet to run. Or at least pretend to run." He smirked again.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"VATCH YOUR FEET FEMME, CAN'T YOU VALK?" Blitzwing yelled. Slipstream, already aggravated enough from the chaos going on, clenched her servos.

"Well I'm sorry I can't see through all this dust, debris and devastation!" When she finished he switched to Random.

"Oooo, just like ze gut old days ven I was witz Megatron!"

Slipstream only growled in frustration as she tugged the laughing psycho through the crowd. Suddenly, she felt a familiar presence in her spark. Could it be?...

The femme observed closer into the debris and saw a Starscream like figure emerge. It was none other than Skywarp himself, but he was carrying somebody in his arms.

Now on Icy, he asked, "Isn't zat ze Magnus?"

She ignored him and they both ran to her brother. As they drew closer Skywarp let out a pathetic squeak and shivered.

"P-please don't hurt me sister!" he begged as he awkwardly shuffled while carrying Optimus. Slipstream smirked as Blitzwing crossed his arms.

"Bring us with you to Megatron, and we won't leave a single dent."


	31. Chapter 31

Megatron frowned ever so slightly as he tallied the number of Decepticons who'd just come back onboard Omega Supreme. The last of them had just arrived, returning in the same shuttles that they'd used to leave the giant Autobot in the first place. And yet, even though they had regained two members in their ranks—Slipstream and Blitzwing—it seemed that two were missing.

This worried Megatron a bit, not because he cared all that much about Oil Slick and Nightbird personally, but because they were valuable. After all, they were cyber ninjas and that alone meant they had some rather unique abilities and talents.

So what happened to them? Had they been captured? Their energy signatures had vanished off the scanners, although it was possible that they might have gone underground. Part of him worried that they may have chosen to defect, yet somehow he doubted it.

He'd chosen to wait a little bit longer for them, even trying to contact them via commlink numerous times, but they were not answering. Whether they were choosing not to answer, or could not answer, he had no way of knowing.

But now that Nemesis Prime was in place on the planet's surface, they couldn't exactly wait around forever. Megatron still wanted to be somewhat nearby, but not right over the planet's surface. And so, after waiting for what felt like a fair amount of time for Nightbird and Oil Slick, Megatron simply shrugged and decided to cut his losses and go. So he gave the order for Omega Supreme to take them back to a remote sector, where they could hide out and wait to hear from Nemesis Prime over an encoded frequency.

Since Nemesis was now impersonating the Magnus, Megatron knew it would be fairly easy for him to gain access to a long-range transmitter and speak on a scrambled frequency without much question or hassle.

Once they had transwarped to the remote sector, Megatron ordered the ship to shut down most of its systems in order to conserve energon. Then he debriefed his minions, speaking mostly to Shockwave and Lugnut. They informed him that the mission had been a complete success; they had managed to cripple a couple of Iacon's energon refinement facilities. After all they had to make it look like there was a reason they were attacking the city, so that no one would get suspicious.

"Very good," Megatron murmured, and more or less dismissed his minions to their various tasks. Now that they had all of the Starscream clones onboard, all of Team Char, and Lugnut, Blitzwing, Soundwave and his little minions, and Shockwave, the Decepticon leader felt that he had plenty of bots at his disposal. He really didn't need Nightbird or Oil Slick all that much, although part of him still wondered what in the Pit had happened to them.

But perhaps they would turn up… eventually.

"May I ask where you will be, my Liege?" Shockwave inquired as Megatron moved to leave the main control room—which was also frequently used as a meeting room.

"With the prisoner." Megatron's mouth curved upward in an evil smirk, and his optics glowed like red fire when he said that. Indeed, he was going to have some fun with Optimus Magnus. Now was going to be the time to make the Autobot pay for all the times he'd hindered and thwarted Megatron's progress in gaining complete victory.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Prowl frowned slightly as he looked about the city, taking in the damage. It looked like the Decepticons had fired at a lot of random targets and individuals, plus they had severely damaged two of the city's main energon refinement facilities. Maybe it was just him, but… there seemed to be something fishy about all of this, as the humans might say.

Were the Decepticons planning to launch random attacks in order to pick off Cybertron's ability to sustain itself, one by one? Well, considering how many Decepticons were still out there at large, it seemed as though they could have attacked the planet all at once, in several ships, thus attempting to take out all of the fuel refineries and such in one strike if that were the case.

Although such a thing might be too costly and would take too much effort. Plus there were times when Decepticons did not destroy things; even they knew that many things were more valuable when they were captured instead of destroyed.

And it was possible that the Decepticons merely wanted to reign terror on the city… which they did a pretty good job of. And yet, something deep within Prowl's spark told him that there was more going on here than the optical sensor could perceive at first glance.

You are on the right track, Prowl.

The cyber ninja glanced around, hearing that familiar voice in his mind again. "Master Yoketron?" he said out loud.

Go find Optimus Magnus.

"Why?"

But the voice had gone silent.

Frowning, Prowl pressed the button on the side of his head to activate his commlink. "Magnus?" he asked. "This is Prowl. Are you alright?"

The reply was almost immediate. "Yes, Prowl. I'm alright. I'm heading back to… my office."

Prowl blinked. He was relieved to hear that Optimus was alright, but there seemed to be something… off about his voice. Or was it simply some hesitancy in the way he spoke? The ninja couldn't be sure. "Are you sure you are alright?" he asked, already beginning to move in the direction of the Magnus's office.

"Yes, I'm fine. Just got a bit… shaken up."

"Alright, I will meet you at your office." Prowl released the button on his commlink and transformed into his motorcycle mode, the helmet and armor automatically forming a sidecar attached to his right side. Then, engine roaring, he sped off in the direction of Optimus's office.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

As Dreamer reentered the surface, she saw that whatever was attacking the city was now gone. Engineers and rescue workers were seen among the wreckage searching for any wounded. For a moment the young femme just stood there. In truth she was in awe of how much damage was done to Iacon. A grouchy voice disrupted Dreamer from her thoughts.

"...and don't think for one second I don't know what I'm doing!"

"Sir, numerous teams are out here looking for possible survivors—" The source of the voice was losing patience.

"The slag you are! I'll look for Dreamer myself!" When Dreamer turned around she saw none other than Ratchet storming past a stumbling paramedic. Despite their previous fight, she was exuberated to see him.

"RATCHET!" Dreamer shrieked with her arms flailing. She began to run towards him, but the noise of the healing city drowned out her cry. When the med-bot transformed and drove away, Dreamer got desperate. Faster than ever before, she ran his direction. Then she jumped in the air—transforming herself while doing so.

Although shocked at her achievement, Dreamer drove right up to and passed by Ratchet screaming his name the entire time. She skidded to a halt and faced her adopted father.

Ratchet stopped and transformed back to his robot mode. "Dreamer?" he asked.

Dreamer, still in her alt mode, babbled, "RatchetI'msosorryIwalkedaway!—"

"Whoa there kid, slow down! I'm just glad you're ok! And I see you finally managed to transform..." he stated and he circled her.

"Yep, but...uh...I can't change back," Dreamer said in a low tone. To her surprise Ratchet laughed.

"C'mon kid, we'll drive home." He then transformed, and the two drove back to their apartment.

0o0o0o0o0o0

The first thing Optimus noticed upon awakening was that he was inside a cell, one that was fairly spacious mostly due to the fact that he was the only occupant. The walls, floor and ceiling were all the exact same shade of dull gray, and a force-field blocked the doorway.

The second thing he noticed was that… well, he seemed to be strapped down on a berth with chains. His arms, legs, and midsection were secured down with those solid, tight-linked chains, and although he tried tugging at them a few times, he quickly realized that he was not going anywhere anytime soon.

Then the third thing he noticed was that he was a bit damaged. His back was sore, and when he twisted his head around he could see that his wings were missing. Something told him that his jet boosters were gone as well.

"Okay… think," he muttered out loud, urging himself to concentrate. He tried to think back, to remember what happened before he blacked out. He could vaguely recall fighting with someone… who actually looked like him…

He blinked. Could it really be true? Was there someone who looked just like him, or was his fuzzy processor playing tricks on him? He couldn't be sure. He hoped that it had simply been a dream.

And yet… the fact that he was lying here on a berth, chained down… well, that wasn't too good a sign, either.

He also recalled that Cybertron had been under attack, and he was trying to assist. And the last thing he remembered was pain exploding inside his processor, as if he'd been hit in the head.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the sound of metallic footsteps clanging on the floor, coming in his direction. Optimus craned his neck to try and see out the force field door, although he couldn't see who was coming until the person was directly outside the door.

It as none other than Megatron. The Decepticon leader smirked as he peered in through the force field. "Well, well, now," he smirked. "Look who is awake."

"Megatron," Optimus said, a slight growl in his voice. "What's going on? Why am I in here and why are you attacking Cybertron?"

Megatron chuckled. "The attack is over, for now." He shut off the force field and stepped inside, standing at the end of the berth which held the Autobot prisoner. "Since you can't do anything anyway," the Decepticon leader went on, sounding very smug, "you might as well know that the attack was simply a diversion. I needed to get you out of the way, in order to replace you with a minion that I have had designed to look just like you."

Optimus stiffened, which just made his body feel worse than it already did. "You mean you sent someone to impersonate me." So apparently his memory of wrestling with someone who looked like himself had been correct after all… unfortunately.

"Indeed," Megatron said, his smirk widening on his features. He then stepped forward to stand beside Optimus. "Now look at this," he grinned. "The mighty Optimus Prime, later made Optimus Magnus, is now completely helpless before me. To borrow a human expression, you have been a thorn in my side for some time now, Optimus. That is the only reason I remember your name now, you know."

"I don't care right now if you remember my name or not," Optimus spat.

"Oh who could forget the name of the newest Magnus?" Megatron said before he could continue. "But anyway, that does not matter. It just so happens that while you are here, I am going to get my revenge on you." He leaned down until his face was hovering just above Optimus's. "I am going to make you suffer. Do not worry though, I will not allow you to go offline; you are still useful to me as a prisoner. But I will make you wish that you were offline."

Megatron straightened and turned toward the doorway. "Bring it in!" he called out.

Sunstorm, the golden-colored Starscream clone, brought something into the cell just then. He brought it before Megatron and then bowed his head low, saying, "It honors me to be in your presence, Great One! Oh yes, and I am so glad you asked me to bring these things in to you. In fact—"

"Oh spare me the platitudes. Just shut up, and get out," Megatron snipped impatiently. In many ways, the only one out of his minions more annoying than Skywarp was Sunstorm, who was full of so much praise and flattering that after a short period of time, it became meaningless. Although at least Sunstorm did his job… Megatron sometimes had to force Skywarp at gun-point to do anything at all. Especially something dangerous.

"Of course, my glorious leader! Anything you say!" Then, thankfully leaving it at that, Sunstorm left the cell.

"Now," Megatron murmured, a new grin forming on his features, "the fun begins."

0o0o0o0o0o

By the time Prowl arrived at the Magnus's office, Nemesis Prime had already been there for about five minutes and had already settled in behind the desk. Nemesis found it to be a very pleasant and spacious room, although perhaps lacking slightly in décor and luxury.

Nemesis was also relieved that he'd been installed with Optimus's commlink frequency, because otherwise that would have been a dead giveaway. He was also fairly confident that the real Optimus's commlink had mostly likely been deactivated by the Decepticons.

Nemesis was mildly annoyed when Prowl walked right into his office without even doing so much as knocking or announcing his presence. Scowling, Nemesis said, "Don't you know how to knock?"

Prowl paused in his stride, then moved to stand just in front of the desk. "I did inform you I was on my way," he said. "Plus we were talking in here just before the attack started. Plus I wanted to make sure you are alright."

"Yeah well, as you can see, I'm fine," Nemesis snipped, then turned his attention back to his desk. "Now if there is nothing else, I have work to do."

Prowl's visor narrowed slightly as he continued to look at the Magnus before him. The ninja noticed something odd about him. His wings looked somewhat odd, plus there was something about his stance that didn't quite seem like Optimus.

It could simply be that he is still upset about what happened on Earth, Prowl thought. The ninja knew that his spark hurt over what happened as well, especially since he had been fond of Fanzone, and he had grown to trust Professor Sumdac despite what he'd done in the past. Prowl also knew that Sari was probably taking all of this very hard…

"Perhaps we should go and visit Sari later, to see how she is doing," Prowl commented, testing his theory.

Nemesis glanced up, a blank look crossing his optics. "Sari?"

"Yes… because of the news we received earlier."

"News?" Again, a blank look.

Prowl frowned. "Yes… you received a message that started Earth had been attacked, and several humans had been killed, one of them being her father."

"Oh! Right," Nemesis exclaimed. "Yeah well… maybe I'll check on her later. I have a lot to do right now," he said… a bit too dismissively.

"Hmm."

Nemesis glanced up, hearing that single sound emit from Prowl's processor. "What?" he asked. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Your wings," Prowl said, pointing. "They do not look like they are connected properly. In fact, one of them seems to be upside-down."

Nemesis glanced at his shoulders self-consciously. "Oh… I just need to get them straightened out," he fibbed. "I got attacked by one of the Decepticons, and they got ripped off. I put them back on as best I could."

"Then you should go see Ratchet," Prowl suggested with a firm edge in his tone. "He will be able to hook them back up properly, and see if anything else was damaged."

"Look, I don't need you to meddle in my affairs," Nemesis snipped, slamming his servo down against the desk top. "I am fine and I don't think I'll be flying anytime soon, so I don't need my wings fixed right now. Just get out, right now. I have work to do."

Prowl stared at him with widened optics. This wasn't like Optimus at all. Unable to think of anything to do or so, the ninja simply turned and left the office, wondering what in the world was going on.

You will find out soon enough, came Yoketron's voice in his processor again. You just need to keep an optical sensor on him, Prowl.

"Trust me… I will," Prowl stated, quietly but firmly. He left the building complex, but positioned himself in the shadows, in full view of the front entrance. He then activated his holographic device to effectively "disappear" into his surroundings.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Optimus grunted as pain lashed across his chassis for the twelfth time, sparks and short blasts of electricity shooting off of the wounds as more damage was inflicted upon him. Megatron seemed to be enjoying himself immensely, using an electro-whip that had to be held carefully by a large handle by its user, and it had small, hard bits made from polished energon crystals on the end of it. These could easily make small slashes in any Cybertronian's armor, even drawing body fluids.

Optimus was aware that he was bleeding lightly from the wounds, although the damage was hardly serious. He knew that the entire front of his chassis had been slashed and chipped at repeatedly by the whip, to the point where his torso armor was completely useless. Nevertheless, he could withstand it.

"You think you're so tough, don't you?" Megatron sneered, holding up the whip as if to strike again. "You're not even flinching much anymore… not like the first couple of times." Megatron then shrugged, as if bored, then turned off the whip's power and began to carefully wrap it into coils, then he gently set it aside. "But I've got something else in store for you, now."

With that, Megatron stooped down to get something else out of the crate that Sunstorm had brought in. A moment later he straightened, with what appeared to be a small container in his servo.

"While I was trapped in that pathetic human's lab," he muttered, stepping closer to Optimus, "I had almost too much free time, and so I was able to observe some of the human broadcasts and entertainments. What I am going to do now is what you might call… pouring salt on the wounds, to borrow a human expression."

With that, he took the cover off of the container and held it over Optimus's chassis.

"What is it?" Optimus blurted, although he already knew it wasn't going to be pleasant.

Megatron's optics flashed with wicked amusement. "Acid," he said. "It won't kill you, but it's just enough to seep through the cracks in your chassis and seep into your wounds. It will dissipate after a few seconds, though; I still have uses for you, after all."

With that, he tipped the container and poured the substance carefully across Optimus's chest, his grin widening as the Autobot cried out and began to flinch and squirm, though the chains prevented him from moving much.

"Squirm, Autobot. Squirm." Megatron chuckled as he finished pouring the substance over Optimus, then he put the cover back on the container and set it aside. He then stood there, servos on his hips, perfectly content to watch Optimus in every moment of his agony and torment.

Eventually though, Optimus seemed to get a grip on himself—either that or the acid was wearing off, or possibly both. He then scowled at Megatron with flashing, sapphire optics. "What is the point of this?" he demanded. "Do you actually want something, or do you just want to see me suffer?"

"I just want to see you suffer." Megatron grinned. "Haven't you figured that out by now?"

"You said you wanted me online. Hasn't it occurred to you that if you damage my chassis too much, you might damage my spark chamber?"

"Oh I've already thought of that, and not to worry, I will not damage that region of your body any more," Megatron smirked. "And what's the matter, Optimus? Had enough? Although I presume you've never had to suffer this kind of torment before. Well, consider this a history lesson in the making, then; there were many Autobots who had to suffer far worse than this."

Optimus blinked and stared at the Decepticon leader with widened optics. He had looked at the history records from the Great War, and he even knew a lot of things from what Ratchet had told him. But he was truly starting to realize that hearing about something, even watching it, was far different from actually experiencing it for yourself. Plus Optimus had always been fairly sure that there were some things that even the most detailed records did not tell or show about the Great War.

And in many ways, even being captured by Lockdown wasn't quite the same as this. The bounty hunter had simply wanted to hand Optimus over to the Decepticons, and took his grapplers and his axe, but hadn't done anything else to him, except zap him with the EMP generator.

This was a similar situation, because Optimus's axe had been taken away, and the chains were covering the grapplers on his wrists so that he could not use them. But in many ways, this was worse than being held by the bounty hunter.

"And now, I am going to continue to educate you," Megatron smirked. "I don't really have much else to do at the moment, not until I hear from your impersonator anyway. And so…"

With that, the Decepticon leader stooped down and grabbed something else from the crate. Optimus craned his neck, trying to see what else was inside the crate, although he just could not see very well from his angle.

"Now," Megatron said, his optics shining evilly as he turned to look at the Autobot before him, "I am going to introduce you to something known as… oil-boarding."


	32. Chapter 32

Everyone knew Perceptor felt nothing; he only thought. Yet as the scientist walked towards the Magnus's office, he continually shifted about. Behind him were Elita and...a disgrace to the Cybertronian Science Department.

His designation was Muckruck and was a Neutral when First Aid found him (what was the assistants name?). The mech was a few inches shorter than Elita, but was twice her size in gerth. Even though the brown and black bot appeared tough, deep down he was very weak.

First Aid (again, is that his name?) had infected Muckruck with a form of fungi from the same organic planet the victim was found. He could spew out the carbon sleech the fungi inside him produced and needed air to breath like other organics. However, the fungi had slowly invaded his systems and he would have offlined had some of the other researchers not have found him with First Aid's other "experiments".

Soon enough Perceptor reached Optimus Magnus's office. He knew the mech would definitely uphold a trial against his former assistant, he just hoped no one would react unreasonably. Muckruck was not a please-able fellow.

Slowly, Perceptor knocked on the door.

After a moment or two passed, the voice of Optimus said, "Come in."

The trio then entered the office, standing just before the Magnus's desk. "Optimus Magnus," Perceptor began in that monotone voice of his, "we have found that my former assistant has done more than infect the femme formerly known as BlackArachnia with nanites. He has also infected this individual," Perceptor indicated the brown and black mech, almost as coolly as if he was pointing at the wall itself, "with a fungus that has contaminated his systems, making him into a techno-organic."

Just then, Muckruck got into a gagging fit and spewed a small amount of a slimy, gray substance on the floor. Elita made a sound of disgust and took a couple of steps away from him. "At least I was never that bad when I was a spider," she muttered.

Nemesis Prime looked at the trio before him, knowing he had to put up a front as Optimus Magnus so that his cover wouldn't be blown. Part of him wanted to turn them away, especially after the disgusting display that Muckruck had just put on. But still, Nemesis's memory banks told him that Perceptor was an important scientist and a member of the council, so he couldn't simply kick them out. It would look suspicious.

"So… what do you suggest we do?" Nemesis asked finally, hoping to get to the true purpose for this visit. He had only been here for less than a day, after all; he didn't know everything that Optimus had been in the middle of yet.

Perceptor blinked. "I propose we start a trial to possibly execute a sentence on First Aid. His experiments have been unethical and broke numerous laws."

Behind him, Muckruck grumbled and crossed his deformed arms. He did not trust the Magnus at all, even if he would agree to the trial.

"Right," Nemesis said, rising from his seat and placing his servos flat on the desk top. "I was just about to say that myself," he fibbed. "I think that we should start the trial at once."

Muckruck looked pleased, although a bit skeptical at the same time. Elita folded her arms across her chest. In truth, she was pleased as well. The nanites had, after all, nearly killed her. She wanted to see the one responsible brought to justice.

"Very well," Perceptor replied, with a slight inclination of his head. "We have already assembled the council, and First Aid has been detained. We may begin as soon as you are ready."

Nemesis shrugged. "Let's go," he said, a bit more casually than he'd intended. It didn't seem to bother any of the others, though.

"Good," replied Perceptor. "I will alert Alpha Trion of the trial at once and get the Council assembled." He then turned to the techno organics behind him.

"Is there anything you two wish to say before we leave?" Perceptor asked. Without hesitation Muckruck stepped forward, looking Optimus straight in the eye.

"After what happened to me," Muckruck said slowly, "you had better make sure the one responsible gets… gets… g…" His sentence was cut off as he entered another coughing fit, and slimy bilge went all over the floor… and right on the front of Nemesis's torso, staining the paint.

"Make sure he gets his just deserves," Muckruck finally managed, once the puking fit settled down.

"Eh…" Nemesis said, glancing down at himself. "I'll do my best. You three go on ahead… I'm going to get… cleaned up first."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The Council Chamber had all of the council members present, as well as a few curious onlookers who stood off to the side. It seemed that plenty of bots had shown up for it, some of them who were simply curious while others had legitimate concerns or were witnesses.

In the front of the Court Chamber were Ratchet and his family, Bulkhead, and Prowl. Sari was at home with Bumblebee, not having to testify until the next day. Even though she was infected with the nanites, she was not a direct victim.

Botanica peered in through a backdoor she would have to go through in a few nanoclicks. She had experiences with dozens of cases before, but this one would be interesting. This actually involved ethical issues concerning organics...well, techno organics. Hopefully the Council's top judge would make the right decisions and sentence in this historic case.

"All rise for Her Honor Judge Botanica!" stated Cliffjumper. With a calm demeanor the slight femme rolled out to her seat as everyone in the court stood, even the Magnus.

Botanica inclined her head in the general direction of the Magnus, as well as the Council members. "Be seated," she said as she moved toward her own seat and sat down.

Once everyone was seated, and once everyone had quieted down, Botanica cleared her throat and began to look over a datapadd that she held in her left servo. "We are here today to discuss the crimes of First Aid. Let the accused be brought fourth."

Her face turned slightly in the direction of First Aid as a pair of guards escorted the bot into the middle of the room, to stand before her high seat, but her optics never quite left the screen of the datapad until she was finished looking over its contents. Finally she set it down and then turned her full attention to the accused. "First Aid," she stated in a clear, firm voice, "you are hereby charged with possible second-degree-murder, unethical research and experimentation, and let us not forget the fact that you held the individual, Muckruck, against his will and conducted experiments on him."

She paused. The entire chamber had gone deathly silent. Finally, she asked in a cool, quiet voice, "How do you plead to these charges, First Aid?"

The defendant shivered slightly, and stuttered a "Not guilty" in reply. From the other side, First Aid received glares from Muckruck and Elita.

Botanica continued to look coolly in First Aid's direction, her cold blue optics giving nothing away of what she thought or felt. In many ways, she almost seemed as cold as Perceptor, except her voice actually held more emotion and texture than that of the scientist.

"Noted," was all she said. "Take a seat," she added, gesturing toward the chair in the middle of the chamber, straight ahead of her own high seat.

It took a little encouraging from one of the guards, but First Aid sat down in the chair, placing his arms on the armrests and gazing up toward the High Judge.

"Now, here is how this trial will work," Botanica said, once again glancing down at her datapad. "This is a very complicated trial, because there is a lot of information to take into consideration, plus several individuals we have to talk to. Because of this, we will speak with some of the witnesses and testifiers now, then there will be a recess and we will speak to the rest later on."

She put down the datapad and spread her arms wide, placing them on the armrests of her seat. "Muckruck, please come fourth," she called out.

Muckruck slowly moved forward and stood just before the judge's seat. "In the name of Primus, do you vow to tell state your facts truthfully, and to speak no falsehoods?" Botanica asked, according to law and tradition.

Muckruck felt another gagging fit coming on, but he held it back. He was NOT about to show his shame in front of a crowd of bots.

"I do," he stated with a somewhat strained voice. Botanica nodded.

"Please, take a seat," the judge said, pointing to a chair placed next to the podium facing the rest of the court. Once he took his seat Botanica spoke again.

"Would the attorney for this plaintiff like to examine him?"

The attorney nodded and stepped up to the chair, where he then ran a portable scanning device over Muckruck. "Indeed it is just as the reports given to us have said," he said as he looked over the scanner readouts. "He appears to have been intentionally infected with a fungus, and it has contaminated his systems, making him half organic. He is definitely the product of an experiment… and a cruel one at that."

Muckruck flinched and shifted a bit in his seat, partly because he was trying to keep from gagging, and partly because he did not like being spoken about as if he wasn't here. It made him feel like he was back in the lab.

Then, over the new few cycles, Botanica proceeded to ask him questions, having Muckruck explain everything that had happened to him. The techno-organic then told her everything, about how he had been taken as a lab rat and experimented on, and was kept locked away by First Aid. Indeed it had been a grueling experience, and Muckruck did the best he could to make that very, very clear.

Finally Botanica seemed satisfied, and once she made certain that no one else had any questions, she dismissed Muckruck and he went back to his former place. "Elita, please come forward," Botanica then called out.

The blue-and-gold femme then stepped forward, bowing her head slightly as she walked, as if she felt self-conscious. But once she was directly in front of the judge's seat, she looked up, clasping her hands together in front of herself.

"Elita," the High Judge then addressed the femme, "In the name of Primus, do you vow to tell state your facts truthfully, and to speak no falsehoods?"

"I do," Elita said firmly.

"Please take a seat." When she did, she was questioned and examined just like Muckruck before her. When her attorney was finished, Botanica faced towards the Defendant's seat.

"Would the defendant's attorney like to cross examine the witness?"

The attorney nodded, then proceeded to ask Elita a series of questions about what happened. He then did the same as Muckruck's attorney had, scanning her and giving a general report on her health and what the nanites appeared to have done to her. Elita also told everything that had happened, about how she had suddenly collapsed in her cell back at the Cybertronian Holding Complex—the place where prisoners go either before they are shipped to the Stockade, or if they are being held for some other reason—and it had been determined that she had been poisoned with the nanites. Elita had been cured, thankfully, but it could have cost her her life if the nanites hadn't been stopped.

Finally Elita was dismissed, and she returned to her previous position which, unfortunately, meant going back to Muckruck's side. And Muckruck was currently trying to suppress another gagging fit that threatened to overtake him. "You'd better not cut loose on my lap," Elita growled quietly out of the corner of her mouth. She spoke so quietly that only he could hear her. He didn't respond, though; he was probably too afraid to open his mouth, should more bilge choose to try and escape.

"First Aid," Botanica said, turning her attention back to the accused, "you have heard what these witnesses have said. And there is clear evidence to back up what they have said. Do you wish to change your plea?"

First Aid hesitated, thinking. He knew that if he changed his plea, he would immediately be charged and given his punishment. Whether it was execution or the Stockade… he did not want either fate. So the best he could do was stall, by forcing the trial to keep going until the very end. "No," he stated.

Muckruck glared and Elita hissed softly.

Botanica cleared her throat softly. "This court is now in recess," she informed everyone. "We will look over the information presented to us, as well as the testimonies, and then continue at this same time tomorrow."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The trial had gone into recess, and Prowl continued to observe the Magnus as the Autobot leader left the council chambers, looking as though he was going to leave the building.

Frowning, Prowl chose to pursue. However, as he entered a more crowded area on his way out of the building, he suddenly heard someone scream out his name:

"PROWL!" This was accompanied by the sound of screeching tires as a sleek motorcycle came racing in his direction. Prowl was prepared to leap out of the way, but the motorcycle came to a halt three feet in front of him.

"Sorry," the motorcycle said in a timid voice. One side of Prowl's visor widened as he looked at her. He knew right away from her voice, as well as the light gray, blue and green colors, exactly who she was.

"Dreamscreamer?" he said out loud. He then glanced up and realized that he had missed his opportunity to follow the Magnus, and felt a bit annoyed and frustrated about that. But nevertheless, he did find himself curious about Dreamscreamer.

"My name is Dreamer now," the femme corrected him. "I uh… wanted to talk to you. My parents are here to watch the trial and they said I could talk to you if I found you."

"Why did you want to talk to me?" Prowl asked, curious in spite of himself. He had learned that Ratchet and Arcee had taken her in as their daughter, after her processor had been wiped to get rid of the virus. So why did she want to see him? Had her adoptive parents told her about him?

"Uhhhh…." Dreamer hesitated somewhat shyly, as if she wasn't sure what to say or how to continue.

Prowl cocked his head to one side. "Dreamer, why are you still in your vehicle mode?" he asked her. "Normally bots transform into their robot modes when they are talking, unless they are going somewhere."

"I can't," Dreamer said sheepishly.

Prowl blinked. "You can't transform?"

"At first I couldn't transform into my bike mode," she replied. "Now I can't get back out of it."

"I see. Well, it just takes concentration and practice," Prowl said. However, he didn't exactly have time to coach her right now, not if he wanted to see what the Magnus was up to. "If there is nothing else… I really have to get going," he told her, already looking in the direction of the door.

"Oh… okay," Dreamer said, sounding disappointed. "Well I wanted to talk to you about what Nightbird said, but if you're busy…"

That got Prowl's attention. His head snapped back to Dreamer, his visor narrowing. "Nightbird?" he said. "You remember her?"

"Well I saw her while the city was being attacked, and that wasn't long ago, so of course I remember her," Dreamer replied. "And she mentioned you."

Prowl sat down beside her, making himself more eye-level with the front of her vehicle mode. Her motorcycle form was very similar to his own, simply with different colors. Plus she was a bit smaller and sleeker than he was. However, femmes usually were a bit smaller than mechs.

The ninja knew he still had to see what the Magnus was up to, and keep an optic on him. But he also needed to know what Nightbird said to Dreamer, and whether or not the Decepticon ninja was still on Cybertron. "I want you to tell me everything she said to you," Prowl said, gently but firmly. He had to remember that he was speaking to someone who had the mind of a youngling, after all, since her memory had been lost. "And I want you to tell me where you saw her."

0o0o0o0o0o0

Sitting on the couch, Sari rested her head on her hands and stared off into space. She was done sobbing her optics out now. Still, she felt immensely depressed. After all she went through off Earth, Sari wanted to go back to her home planet and visit her father…

She sighed and laid back. There was no use wasting her time on ifs. Still…

"Hey Sari," Bumblebee said, announcing his presence in the living room, "wanna go out for a drive?" His friend only grumbled and hid her face in her arms, laying on her stomach. The yellow mech frowned. Frankly he wanted to see her happy again. He knew it wasn't easy when she lost a loved one, but still!

Bumblebee was determined to at least make her giggle. Smirking slightly he sat next to her and laid his servo over Sari. She again grumbled, not bringing up her face.

"Aw, c'mon! I wanna see your pretty face!" Bumblebee mock whined. Sari then let her optics peep out from her arms, and glared at the bot. "I'm not in the mood," she mumbled. Bumblebee then took away his servo, and began to prod her with a single finger.

"B-Bumblebee…" Sari said trying not to laugh. She just had to be ticklish! "Stop it!" He only smirked and added another finger. By now the techno organic was beginning to gasp for breath.

"Laugh for me! Bwahaha!" Bumblebee jokingly commanded. By now Sari was in a giggling fit, and attempted to swat away his servos. At one swat she grabbed hold on a finger, and he swung her in the air.

By now, Sari was laughing in pure joy. When Bumblebee caught her, he brought her to his face. As she calmed down, Bee looked over the small form. Because of his own height, Sari was taller than his head. And he DID like that kiss…it could all work out, right?

Slowly, he brought her closer. She looked up at him and laid a hand on his faceplate. Before reaching for her lips, Bumblebee gave her a genuine smile.

"Sari, can I?…"

She giggled and pressed her lips against his. At first Bumblebee was shocked, but gradually accepted and deepened it. The two stood there together like this, and neither knew how long the kiss lasted. But they couldn't care less.

0o0o0o0o0o0

While the trial was in recess, Nemesis had chosen to slip back to the building complex where the Magnus's private office was located. All things considered, all of this was very overwhelming… especially since he had to maintain appearances, be careful not to blow his cover, and keep in touch with Megatron.

Just what did the Decepticon leader want him to do exactly, anyway? At the moment, it seemed like Megatron was waiting for something or other. Either that or he was simply too busy having his "fun" with Optimus at the moment to think about much else.

Or was this simply a test from Megatron, to see how well he could handle himself without blowing his cover? Nemesis began to wonder if, perhaps, he was merely a pawn. A way to buy Megatron time while he had some fun with Optimus.

Then again, Nemesis doubted that Megatron would have gone through so much effort of putting him in the place of Optimus if he did not have some sort of plan. Perhaps he simply wanted to give Nemesis a bit of time to become more acclimated to his current position.

Nevertheless, Nemesis did feel like he was possibly an expendable pawn. If he got discovered, Megatron still had a big bargaining chip because he had the real Magnus in his clutches. But nevertheless… he would continue to do his job, because it was all he could do. He was confident that Megatron would give him something important to do sooner or later.

Besides… sometimes it was very difficult to tell what Megatron was thinking or planning. The Decepticon leader was intelligent and clever, and did not always disclose his plans to his minions. At least, not all of his plans.

"Optimus?"

Nemesis turned upon hearing his alternate identity addressed. There stood none other than Elita in the doorway. He felt his spark skip a pulse within his chassis as he stared in her direction. She seemed… so familiar, and it felt as though some memories wanted to flood back into his processor, but something held them at bay. It was almost like having a word on the tip of your tongue but being unable to think of it, no matter how hard you try…

"Elita," he acknowledged, in spite of himself. "Come in." He sank down in the seat behind the desk.

The femme stepped inside, and then took the seat across from him. As Nemesis looked at her, he ran what he knew about her through his processor. He knew that she had been a techno-organic, but some nanites had made her appear more bot than before. She still had the internal organs of a techno-organic, but on the outside, she looked just like her old self, Elita 1.

Somewhere deep in the back of his processor, he remembered, at least vaguely, that he had been… repulsed by her once. Yet there was also something else… he had once found her… very attractive.

He had loved her. But whatever those memories or impressions were… they didn't matter now. He did feel something for her, he had to admit, but… it was hardly love. He felt attracted to her, nothing more.

"Optimus," Elita said, sucking in a deep breath and then letting it out slowly, "I suppose I just wanted to say… thank you for all you've done."

Nemesis raised his optical ridges. "All I've done?" he asked.

Elita leaned back in her seat and crossed her legs—a movement that really caught Nemesis's attention, and his optics traced the curves of her legs and hips as she spoke. "I guess I can see that… you have been doing the best you can. You didn't let me or the kid die, and now you Autobots have the ones responsible for the nanites on trial."

Elita then glanced down at herself, running her hands over her arms and glancing at her shoulders. "I am not fully back to normal," she said thoughtfully, "but I feel more bot than I have felt for a thousand stellar cycles. And more importantly, I look like my old self, even though there is still a little of BlackArachnia inside me." She glanced down at herself indicatively, obviously implying the organic organs within her.

"If nothing else… I know I'll be able to pass myself off as a normal Autobot now," she said, now glancing at "Optimus". "I guess you really did live up to what you said you would do, even if no one planned for it to happen this way." She sighed. "If I have to live looking like an Autobot but having organic parts inside me… I can live with that. And maybe someday… those can be safely removed as well." She frowned. "If not… I suppose I will have to live with that."

She rose from the chair and stretched, flexing her arms and then allowing them to drop at her sides. "But for the first time in a long time, I actually feel like myself again," she said.

Nemesis rose from his seat, taking a couple of steps toward her. "That is good," he said distractedly, his optics still following the curves on her slim form.

Elita moved closer to him then, looking straight into his optics, "Optimus… whatever happens next… I want you to know that, well… you really have helped me trust at least some Autobots again." She smiled slightly. "I'm not ready to trust fully yet. But… I do believe that you mean what you say."

With that, her arms slipped around his waist, hugging him below his wings. Nemesis felt a jolt in his spark at her touch, and something inside him snapped as he wrapped his arms around her to return the embrace. She yelped loudly as he shoved her against the wall, keeping a firm grip on her as she began to struggle in his arms.

"Optimus—what the frag are you doing?" she shrieked, struggling and clawing at him, trying to get away.

Nemesis shoved his face into hers, grinning evilly. "What do you think?" he crooned, then forced her down onto the floor, ignoring her shouts and screams as he restrained her, prying off her torso plating…

0o0o0o0o0o0

Prowl had found his conversation with Dreamer to be quite interesting, although rather puzzling in many ways. He had no idea why Nightbird had said those things to the young femme, although maybe the Decepticon ninja felt a bit responsible for what had happened to Dreamer. Prowl could only assume that Nightbird had been part of the Decepticon attack on the city, and was now most likely gone.

In any case, Prowl knew that he would speak with Dreamer again another time about all this, but for the time being he had other important matters to attend to. So he told Dreamer to stay close to her foster parents at all times for her own safety; he didn't want to risk harm to her, should Nightbird choose to come after her again for some reason.

Then Prowl had taken off, driving in his vehicle mode out of the building and out onto the streets. He didn't know which way the Magnus had gone, but he chose to check out the building complex where the Magnus's office was first. It was as logical a place as any to start.

When he entered through the front door, he walked past the receptionist, who glanced at him but otherwise ignored him. She knew that he was a friend of the Magnus, plus he had been here several times already, so she probably figured he was welcome.

As Prowl got nearer to the office, he could make out what sounded like screaming, although it was muffled by the closed door. Even his sensitive audios could barely pick it up until he was right next to the door.

He moved quickly, opening the door and rushing inside, then gasped at the sight before him. Optimus Magnus had Elita pinned down on the floor beneath him. He could only make out her face mostly, especially when she looked directly at him.

"PROWL!" she shrieked.

"What is going on here?" Prowl demanded, moving toward the pair.

The bot who appeared to be none other than Optimus Magnus glanced up from what he was doing. "Oh, it's the ninja," he said, and began to straighten up. Elita shrieked and took the opportunity to scoot away from him.

Prowl's optics widened with horror at the sight before him. Elita was breathing heavily and had looks of fury, outrage, disgust and fear written all over her features. That on top of the fact that her chest plating was off, and her spark fully visible and her interface cord hanging down loosely from her exposed circuitry… well, it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what had happened.

Especially since the Magnus was hastily putting his own torso plating back on.

One thing was suddenly clear to Prowl; this was not Optimus. The ninja-bot had known for some time now that something was… off about the Magnus, but now it was completely evident that this wasn't him at all. Optimus Magnus would never, ever do something like this.

Prowl roared an enraged battle cry as he bolted forward, moving too swiftly for Optimus's impersonator to react. The ninja slammed his opponent against the wall, holding the blue energon blade that extended from his arm at "Optimus's" neck.

"Who are you?" Prowl growled through his gritted dental plating.

"So my secret is out," the other mech said. Then he laughed in a cold, mechanical voice, that actually sounded less like Optimus and more like… someone else Prowl had heard before. "Just call me Nemesis Prime."

"Where is Optimus?" Prowl demanded, tightening his grip on the other bot. "Tell me!"

Instead of talking, Nemesis kicked Prowl squarely in the mid-section. Prowl grunted distractedly, but maintained his grip—however, he did loosen his hold slightly, enabling Nemesis to move into just enough of a position to strike Prowl solidly in the face.

CRACK. That was now the second visor Prowl had lost. It cracked neatly in half and fell off his face, clattering on the floor. Nemesis then took one look at the glowing red optics that had been hidden behind the visor and gave quite a start. Prowl took advantage of his opponent's shock and regained control of the situation by knocking Nemesis off his feet and pinning him down on the floor.

However, Nemesis was a bit stronger than Prowl had given him credit for. The Magnus-impersonator shoved himself upward and then rolled onto his back, pinning Prowl beneath him.

Just then, a shrill shriek filled the air and there was a blur of movement, followed by a yelp from Nemesis. Then, after a moment, Nemesis seemed to go completely limp, ceasing all struggles. Prowl was then able to shove his mass aside enough to get out from under Nemesis and push himself up.

He saw Elita standing nearby. She had her torso plating back in place, and her optics were like fire. Prowl's own optics went from her to the still form of Nemesis Prime, then he saw some marks on Nemesis's arm.

"I may be more bot now, but I still have venom, which derives from organic sources," she hissed, sounding a bit more collected but still looking angry and edgy. "I don't have a cure on me, and if he's not offline, he will be in a few cycles." She clenched her fists at her sides. "I used a lethal portion; he does not deserve to live."

Prowl stooped down and checked Nemesis's vitals, then glanced up toward Elita. "He's offline," he told her.

"Good!" Elita spat. "Just… good!" With that she turned and stalked out of the office, before Prowl could stop her. She was too infuriated to even have noticed Prowl's red optics. Just before the door shut behind her… Prowl thought he heard her beginning to sob quietly.

Prowl glanced down at Nemesis's corpse, then slowly rose. Who was this, really? However it was… it was logical that he had somehow replaced Optimus Magnus during the Decepticon attack. Perhaps that was the whole point of the attack anyway. If so… where was the real Optimus Magnus?

Prowl knew that he would have to take the body to Ratchet. They needed to have an autopsy done on it to determine just who this… was.

He contemplated going after Elita to make sure she was alright, but there were other important matters to attend to at the moment. Plus he figured that she might want some time alone.

"Ratchet," Prowl said, activating his commlink. "I need you to come to the Magnus's office… right away." He paused for a second, then added, "You might also want to send a medic to locate Elita and give her a checkup… I'll explain more when you get here, but let's just say… she was attacked." Under normal circumstances, Prowl would have been content to simply let Elita be until she had had some time to herself, but a forced interface, possibly even an attempted spark-bond without consent, was not something that could be simply dismissed or ignored.


	33. Chapter 33

Skidraider looked at his pink femme creator as she held a spoon filled with low grade energon. He noticed how the pinkish-purple like liquid seemed to glow. It tasted very good, but what the little mech really wanted was that red bot's bright pink drink that practically radiated from its cube container. Skid ignored his own food and reached out for his father's high grade, whining.

The old mech chuckled. "It'll be a good few thousand stellar cycles till you can drink this stuff kid." He then slowly took a sip of his drink, purposely teasing his son. Skidraider growled and clamped his mouth shut. Either he got the pretty pink stuff or he ate nothing at all.

"You know Ratchet, maybe it's better if you two had your meals in different rooms," His mother suggested tiredly.

"Hey, Skid's gotta learn that he can't always get what he wants. Besides Arcee, if he'd rather starve than eat his proper meal, he can choose to go hungry." He glanced over at the sparkling, who was giving him a pout-y lip. Why couldn't he have that shiny drink? It wasn't fair!

"Ratchet, we can't let him starve! What kind of parenting is that?" As the pink one raised her voice, Skid got distracted. It was not often that she lost her calm demeanor.

"It's an effective parenting, that's what it is," the gruff bot explained, taking another sip. "Remember when Dreamer gave up on trying to transform? Well, I let her, and she learned the hard way that she needs to learn. Hey, where is she anyway?"

As his mother tried to give Skid another spoonful, she answered, "She's with Prowl right now. Didn't I tell you after the Court session?"

"Oh yeah..." he said, drinking up the last of his high grade. As he got up, he received a call from somebody on his link.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Prowl managed to get the dead corpse of Nemesis Prime to the main hospital of Iacon—the same place where Ratchet worked now—just as Ratchet arrived. The ninja bot also had Dreamer with him; he had found the young femme wandering aimlessly in the streets apparently due to a miscommunication with her parents.

Apparently Ratchet and Arcee had thought that she was going to be hanging out with Prowl for a while and that he would take her home after their talk—not knowing that Prowl had other urgent matters to attend to. So that had left Dreamer unsure what to do or where to go, since she was still having memory problems—at least until her processor finished recovering from the memory purge she'd been given.

And thus, Prowl had more or less been left with the task of watching Dreamer as Ratchet took Nemesis into one of the examination rooms, although this wasn't something he minded too much. He'd wanted to speak with her again anyway.

"Dreamer," he said as he sat down on one of the waiting benches, "you told me that Nightbird… made you promise to be a cyber ninja?" He chose his words carefully. Under normal circumstances he may have said, "to renew your cyber ninja training" but that didn't seem right here. Dreamer's old life was gone, lost forever along with all her memories.

"Yeah… she did," Dreamer said somewhat shyly. She shifted her position a little; she was currently resting a few feet from Prowl, although she was still stuck in her motorcycle mode. "I wasn't sure what she was talking about."

Prowl nodded slightly. In some ways, part of him hoped that she might at least consider being a cyber ninja again. Even in spite of what Nightbird had done to her, Prowl knew that Dreamer's spark hadn't changed. And in truth, Dreamer had the spark of a cyber ninja… something that was relatively rare.

"Dreamer… do you think you might want to train to be a cyber ninja?" Prowl asked her gently but urgently.

"Uh… I'm not sure. Is it hard?"

Prowl cocked his head to one side. Hard? Well, the path of learning to be a cyber ninja was no walk in the garden, that was for sure. "It requires a lot of training and discipline," the black-mech ninja began slowly.

"Uh… you mean like when sparklings get sent to their room for being bad?" Dreamer asked softly.

In spite of himself, Prowl chuckled ever so slightly. It was just something about the way the way she said that; she seemed so innocent and naïve. "No, I mean self control," he corrected her patiently.

"Oh." Something about Dreamer's tone suggested that she understood his clarification, but at the same time she didn't understand. "Well…. I might want to learn, maybe. I mean… Arcee taught me that everyone should keep their promises."

In some ways, Prowl felt a little bit sorry for Dreamer. She was so innocent and naïve right now, as though everything that Nightbird did to her had never happened. In many ways, she was one fortunate femme. But eventually, as she grew to experience more of life again… that innocence would wane away, to be replaced with maturity, knowledge, experience… and hopefully, wisdom. But such things usually came with a price, and that included… scars.

"Perhaps when Ratchet has a free moment to talk, we can discuss this some more," Prowl told her. "But I do have to warn you that this is a difficult path. I am not trying to discourage you, I just want you to be aware that it's not simple. It took me a million stellar cycles to find my inner spark."

She heard what he said, but her processor wasn't making sense of the words. In some ways this frustrated her, because something told her that if only she knew more, she would be able to figure out what he meant. Just because she didn't understand something did not make her stupid; Arcee had taught her that much. She just needed to keep learning.

And maybe she could become a cyber ninja, and learn everything about them.

"I still want to try," she stated firmly, her mind made up.

"Alright," Prowl said. He then adjusted his new visor slightly; Moonracer had provided him with a new one shortly after he'd entered the hospital. "As I said, we'll discuss it with your adoptive parents once they both have a free moment."

"Okay."

Then, after a brief silence, Dreamer said in a very annoyed voice, "I still can't transform! How do I transform back?"

Prowl smiled a little. "Try watching me closely," he told her. He then changed into his vehicle mode quickly and then, being intentionally slow-moving, he gradually changed back into his robot mode, trying to give her a chance to see how it was done.

"That looks so hard!" she exclaimed, sound slightly distraught.

"Well, how did you get into your vehicle mode?" Prowl asked her.

"I don't know, I just did it when I was in a hurry."

"Then try not to think about it too much," Prowl instructed gently. "Just do it."

"I don't know if I can."

"Then you're still thinking about it too much. Don't try to think about it too much, just do it."

Dreamer made a sighing sound. "Okay… I'll try."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

The trial, when it had reconvened, proceeded smoothly. Several individuals—especially Muckruck—had urged and insisted that the trial continue as soon as possible, and so Botanica had graciously agreed that they would reconvene on the same day rather than waiting for the next day. They spoke with everyone whom they needed to speak with, including Sari.

The young femme had to fight to keep herself together since she was still grieving over the loss of her father, but after she was finished answering questions about what happened to her with the nanites, she was dismissed and she returned to her seat in the crowd. That was where Bumblebee had greeted her and told her she had done just fine, and she rewarded him with a small but warm smile.

After that, Botanica had called forward several others, including none other than a large mech named Wheeljack, who had worked with Perceptor and most of his aides at some point or other. Wheeljack had seen implications of what First Aid had done, but he'd never looked into it too much.

"First Aid always made me nervous in some ways," Wheeljack had murmured at one point, his servos twitching with unease. "He seemed like the sort who might get blackmail material on you if you ever tried to cross him."

At the very end of the trial, Botanica ordered a recess for thirty cycles, during which time she personally reviewed all of the evidence one final time. Then she reconvened the court gathering and declared her verdict in a loud, clear voice:

"First Aid," she said, "you have been found guilty of all the crimes that you have been accused with. I hereby sentence you to spend the rest of your life in the Cybertronian Stockade for your crimes."

With that, she held up her servo, indicating the guards. "This trial is now over," she stated. "Take him away."

First Aid flinched in his seat, his optics widening. Part of him was relieved that he hadn't been given the death sentence, but was the Stockade really a better sentence? He had no idea what happened to the bots who got sent there, but he knew it wasn't pretty.

But there was no alternative now, especially as the guards snapped a pair of stasis cuffs on him and began to carry him out of the courtroom.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"I don't believe this," Ratchet growled as he glanced from Red Alert to Moonracer and then down at the still form of Nemesis Prime. "If I hadn't seen this with my own optics and my own scanners, I wouldn't have believed it."

"I know… it is unbelievable," murmured Moonracer, her optics wide.

"Nemesis" lay there as still as an offline corpse on the berth before them, only he wasn't really dead. Elita's poison had done a fair number on his systems, but it was not fatal. On top of that, the Autobot medics had discovered something shocking after doing a thorough examination of his systems; his energy signature was identical to that of Sentinel Prime.

"The Decepticons must have gotten ahold of him and did this to him," Red Alert commented. "They probably brainwashed him to make him forget who he was originally."

"Prowl told me what he did to Elita," Ratchet murmured quietly. "We have to find her."

"As I told you, I already sent some bots out to search for her, as soon as you first told me about what he did," Red Alert said. "Hopefully they will be able to locate her and bring her here for a check-over."

"If she can be found," Moonracer murmured. "Any femme who has to endure something like that usually feels a deep shame… she may wish to escape from everything, even herself."

"Nevertheless, she needs an examination," Ratchet stated firmly. "If she wants to be by herself after that, she may do so. But we need to make sure her systems and her spark are healthy and undamaged." He sighed. "We also, urgh, need to make certain both she and… 'Nemesis' here are clean of interface-transferred-viruses."

Red Alert nodded and Moonracer made a face. Indeed this wasn't the most pleasant topic of conversation, but still it did need to be discussed, for Elita's sake.

"In the meantime," Red Alert said quietly, "I think we should try and undo what the 'cons did to Nemesis… after we check his systems for ITV's. His appearance doesn't suit him and I think some of it can be simply removed… especially the wings. They don't suit him too well anyway."

It took a couple of mega-cycles to do a thorough examination of Nemesis/Sentinel's body fluids, circuitry, and internal processor to make certain he was clean of interface-transferred-viruses, but it turned out he was.

Ratchet had a side thought that perhaps this meant Sentinel was truly a virgin, or had at least only interfaced with bots who were clean… but he chose to keep that thought to himself.

"We should be able to keep him stable for some time," Red Alert said aloud. "Spark-support should sustain him… although he'll have to pull through on his own."

"Yeah… though I think he's definitely fighting to stay alive," Ratchet murmured grimly.

Then, just as he, Red Alert and Moonracer were about to begin taking off the wings and jet boosters, and start returning Sentinel to his old look, one of the other medics came into the room. "We have found Elita, and we've escorted her—with some difficulty—to the next examination room," the medic informed them.

"You two stay with him," Ratchet told Red Alert and Moonracer. "I'll tend to Elita, if that's alright with you."

The other two nodded, offering no disagreement whatsoever. Ratchet couldn't blame them; having to examine a femme after rape, and finding out whether or not she has been harmed or has sparked… was a grim task indeed. But at least they could be confident that she hadn't gotten any interface viruses from Sentinel…

Ratchet pushed the thought aside as he went in to see her. She was seated on the very edge of her berth, looking as though she wanted to sprint at the first chance she got. She also wasn't making optic contact with anyone.

Elita flinched a little as Ratchet approached her. "Look," she spat before he could say anything, "whatever it is you need to do, just get it over with as quickly as possible. I don't want to be here, and I don't want to be looked at."

"Relax," Ratchet told her, taking out his scanner. "I just need to make sure you're alright."

"I feel fine."

"I didn't ask you how you feel, and you're here so that I can make sure you are fine."

"I don't need someone pawing through my systems or checking me over for interface viruses!" Elita shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself. "Though I wouldn't be surprised if that bot is full of them."

"Don't worry, we ran a few tests over him and he's clean."

"Well… small plus I suppose." Elita said, then growled. "At least I've killed him—he got exactly what he deserved."

"Actually… he's not dead," Ratchet informed her, and then immediately wondered if it was such a good idea to tell her that.

Her head snapped up. "WHAT?" she exclaimed. "But I killed him myself, with my venom!"

"He's online, but just barely… he's on spark support right now."

"If it were up to me I would go and pull the plug on him!"

"Well it's not up to you," Ratchet snipped. "Now be quiet. The sooner I get this examination over with, the sooner you can go."

That caused Elita to quiet down. She did want to get out of here as soon as possible.

Several cycles passed, during which time Ratchet asked her a few questions, and unfortunately some of them were awkward and a bit personal, but Elita cooperated as best she could. Again she just had to keep on telling herself… the sooner they got this over with, the sooner she could just get out and go be by herself.

Maybe she could just stay in hiding for another thousand stellar cycles or something. Maybe she could even leave Cybertron. Apparently some imposter had taken Optimus's place and was now on spark-support, so her "guardian" or whatever was no longer on the planet. And she would rather take off than risk being put back in her cell.

"Oh crud…" Ratchet murmured to himself under his breath, as he examined the results of his scans and tests. "Slag!" That time he spoke loudly enough to be heard by Elita.

"What?" Elita asked him warily, narrowing her optics. Part of her didn't want to know, because she did not want to hear any bad news. But still… if this effected her, she knew that she needed to know.

"I'm afraid I have some… disturbing news," Ratchet said slowly.

Elita hissed and then she practically leaped off of the berth, standing tall and slamming her servo down on top of it. She moved so suddenly and with such fury that it made Ratchet jump a little. "JUST FRAGGIN' TELL ME AND STOP PATRONIZING ME!" she yelled.

"Alright!" Ratchet exclaimed gruffly. "I'll be blunt; the first piece of bad news is that… according to your spark readings… apparently you are bonded to, ah, Nemesis right now." He wouldn't tell her that it was really Sentinel… not yet. Not until she was calmer and ready to hear it.

Her optics flickered a few times, then she snarled and turned away from him, clenching and unclenching her fists at her sides. "Should have figured," she growled. "Though I thought it wasn't so… I haven't… felt him in me. Don't bonded pairs usually feel each other?"

"You probably don't feel him because he's in deep stasis at the moment," Ratchet told her. "But that's only half of the… news."

Elita said nothing, so Ratchet simply told her. "According to these readings… you have also sparked. A new sparkling is growing and developing in your spark even as we speak."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Alpha Trion read over the reports carefully. This was definitely not good. As far as the Council knew, Optimus Magnus was somewhere with Megatron, as a prisoner…he shuddered to think what was things had been done to the young leader now.

What the Council agreed to do was organize a search and rescue team to take back Optimus. So far they had yet to decide who those mechs and/or femmes should be.

"What we need in the team are experienced Autobots who have been practically trained for this!" Cliffjumper shouted.

"But even Blurr couldn't trace a Decepticon signal, they have become more stealthy than you think," Botanica answered coolly.

"Then who should we send?" Perceptor asked in his dull voice.

"Well," started Alpha Trion, "we send a Decepticon."

The Council Chamber went silent. It took a few seconds for the rest to figure out what the old mech had meant, but Perceptor picked it up immediately.

"We send Starscream," he stated blandly. He of course expressed no reaction to the suggestion, but the other members were in shock. They all knew too well of the magenta seeker's backstabbing and sneaky nature. If he couldn't be trusted with his own leader, why should the Autobots put him on such a crucial mission. As if he knew what the politicians were thinking, Alpha Trion defended the former second in command.

"Starscream has done well in helping one of our own rescuing Blurr and Jazz, and from what these reports have shown"-here Alpha held up a data pad for emphasis- "this mech has shown good behavior for someone with his reputation. As of right now, he is the only bot we can trust with this job."

The Council Members looked at one another. As much as they did not like Starscream, he was right. And their vote had given the Con an early release from the stockade.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Megatron had eventually grown bored of torturing Optimus Magnus, mainly due to the fact that the Autobot had gone temporarily offline due to the pain and torment. Nevertheless, Megatron had continued to torture him a little with electrical shocks for a while, even after Optimus was no longer aware of his surroundings. But that got old very fast, plus it wasn't satisfying when you couldn't get any reaction out of your subject of torment.

And so Megatron decided to go and attend to other matters. He checked in with all of his minions, and found that they were busy doing various things and performing their assigned tasks without trouble, although it seemed that Skywarp had gotten himself locked into one of the smaller storage rooms and screamed bloody murder until he was let out. Apparently he was afraid of the dark… right along with everything else.

Megatron then decided that it was fine time he got a new second-in-command. Ever since Starscream had betrayed him on that fateful day above Earth, he hadn't had much time to think about getting a new second-in-command.

He began to run the various choices through his processor. He wanted someone who would be competent, but loyal. Someone who had proven their worth, abilities, and loyalty.

He briefly considered Strika, but quickly dismissed her from mind. She was competent, but sometimes prone to arguing and debating. Lugnut was loyal… but had a one-track processor. Shockwave was extremely loyal… he was definitely worth taking into consideration. Then again, so was Slipstream…

"Hmmm," Megatron purred softly as he continued to ponder this. When he got right down to it, it seemed that his best choices were either the double-agent who'd served for so long on Cybertron, or Starscream's fem-bot clone.

"I've never had a femme as a second-in-command before…" he murmured to himself, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Could be interesting." In spite of himself, he grinned slightly. In truth, Slipstream wasn't a bad-looking femme to boot.

With that he headed toward his private office, summoning Slipstream via commlink to meet him there. All he said over the commlink was that he had something to tell her in person.

0o0o0o0o0o

As usual, Starscream laid on his berth, doing nothing. He already counted all the bumps on the walls. And even the scratches of paint on the ceiling. Now he could see why all those mechs could turn insane...

He heard the door open, but didn't bother to look. It was probably another guard again. But this time it had a feminine voice.

"Starscream, you're coming with me now," it spoke. The seeker turned his head and saw none other than Chromia. His... boss. He sneered and did not move from his berth.

"Isn't it a bit early for my release?"

"Do you WANT to stay in here?" the mint green femme huffed. When he sat up he saw her with her arms crossed and a stern look on her faceplate. Chromia stared at him straight in the optic.

Starscream got off and walked toward her. "So what I'm I supposed to do? File your reports?" he asked with a mock curiosity.

"I'll tell you on the way there," she replied quietly.

"To where?" he demanded. But Chromia already took him by the servo and was dragging him out of the building.


	34. Chapter 34

It had taken some time and effort, but Prowl had finally managed to help Dreamer transform into her robot mode. He'd then offered to do a few more transformation exercises with her, to make sure she could transform back to her vehicle mode again, but she stubbornly declined.

"If I change back into a bike, I might not be able to change back!" she exclaimed, folding her arms as she sat down on the waiting bench.

"You are going to have to learn sometime," Prowl told her, only to receive a glare in return. Shrugging, Prowl simply sat down on the bench beside her, and the two of them sat in silence for some time.

Finally, Ratchet emerged from one of the rooms, looking as though he'd been to the Pit and back. He also had at least a couple of dents in his helmet to boot.

"Ratchet," Prowl said, his voice filled with concern. He immediately rose and took a few steps toward the medibot. "What happened?"

"Long story, don't want to talk about it right now," Ratchet growled.

"What's wrong with him?" Dreamer asked Prowl curiously, as Ratchet moved out of sight.

"I don't know, but I would assume it has something to do with… Nemesis," Prowl replied. "I will go talk to him."

Dreamer rose from her seat. "I'll come with you," she said. She didn't feel like waiting around on the bench, like she had while Arcee was delivering her sparkling.

The two of them found Ratchet somewhere in the back of the hospital—how an old bot like him could move so fast when he wasn't even in his vehicle mode amazed Prowl a little, though he was hardly surprised. And it seemed that Ratchet was helping himself to some High Grade that someone had stashed away back there. Whether Ratchet himself had hid it there, or simply knew where it was, Prowl did not know and he wasn't about to ask.

"Are you sure you should be drinking that while you're on duty?" Prowl asked quietly. He was tempted to try and take the glass and its sparkling, shining contents away from the older bot, but decided against it. Although from the way it looked… it seemed that this High Grade was particularly potent.

"Kid," Ratchet snipped, "after what I've just had to go through… I need this." He then downed the rest of the glass in a single gulp.

In some ways, Prowl wasn't too fond of being addressed as "kid", even though he knew that he still had a young look about him. Plus Ratchet was one of the few bots old enough who could technically call him "kid" and get away with it.

"What happened?" Prowl asked, a bit more gently.

"Urgh," Ratchet growled, looking down at his glass and turning it over in his servos. "Let's just say someone found Elita, and gave her a look-over. The news isn't good."

"What do you mean?"

"She's sparked, Prowl. Not only that but she's apparently bonded to Sentinel now."

Prowl's visor widened. Sentinel? The very bot who he himself had helped bring back from the Pit? "Sentinel? But I thought—"

"Apparently, somehow," Ratchet growled, "Nemesis is Sentinel. I think we're seeing a piece of the Decepticons' handiwork." He sighed, turning back toward the hidden high-grade dispenser. "I think I need another glass—Dreamer, NO!"

Both Ratchet and Prowl had been so deep in their conversation that they hadn't noticed Dreamer apparently helping herself to the High Grade. Ratchet cursed under his breath and kicked himself mentally. Of course Dreamer was the curious sort—he should have been watching more closely. She wasn't a sparkling, but in his opinion, she was still far too young for that stuff… especially a full glass of it!

Dreamer had apparently just downed a glass of the stuff, and was swerving a bit where she stood. Her optics were unfocused, and her expression was dazed.

"Slag, she's drank too much, too fast—her systems aren't used to the stuff!" Ratchet growled.

Just then, the glass Dreamer was holding slipped through her fingertips, shattering on the floor at her feet. Then Ratchet and Prowl moved forward just in time to catch her before she collapsed on the floor.

"CRUD!" Ratchet growled, stooping down and picking her up, cradling her head slightly in his servo. "As if I don't have enough to deal with at the moment! Now my daughter is high on high-grade!" He growled something under his breath that Prowl couldn't quite catch, but the black-mech ninja figured he wasn't missing anything more than a Cybertronian curse.

"Ratchet," Prowl told the medic, "go and do whatever you need to do… even if it's just some time alone. I will look after Dreamer."

"Eh… you sure?" Ratchet asked, sounding unsure. The fact was, he knew how High Grade could effect older, more mature bots—even though who were used to the stuff. Dreamer was still fairly young… and she'd never had any before.

Prowl nodded. "Go on, I'll make sure she's alright." He extended his arms toward the older bot, offering to take the femme from him.

"Okay," Ratchet said, somewhat reluctantly. "I could use a quick, five-cycle drive outside to burn off some steam. Then I need to come back in and tend to some other things. But Prowl… just to make sure you know what you're getting yourself into…" Ratchet rested his daughter gently in Prowl's arms, trailing off. "Well… let's just say she might get… hyper. Try to keep her quiet, and try to keep her as still as possible, that's about all I can advise," the medic finally said.

Exactly two minutes after Ratchet left, Prowl noticed the young femme stirring slightly. He had set her down one of the unoccupied waiting benches, and he was standing beside the bench.

"Dreamer?" he said, watching her intently as she sat up and looked around. At first her optics shone brightly and flickered, as if she was trying to get her bearings. Then after a long moment, her gaze settled on Prowl… and her face seemed to nearly split in two as she looked at him.

"PROWLY!" she screeched, then attempted to leap at him. However, she had yet to regain her equilibrium, so she ended up falling on the floor before Prowl could catch her.

"Are you alright?" Prowl asked her, taking her arm and helping her up. She was quite wobbly, to the point where he had to hold her by the shoulders to keep her on her feet. She wound up grabbing onto his arms, leaning heavily on him for support.

Then she grinned up at him. "You're so tall!" she exclaimed. Indeed, he was probably two heads taller than she was. But something about the way she said it, and the way she was looking at him, made Prowl flinch slightly.

"Dreamer, I think you should sit down," Prowl said, clearing his throat. Out of the corner of his visor he could see several passersby staring their direction. He tried to gently ease her back toward the bench, but… she had other ideas.

"I KNOW WHERE I WANNA SIT!" She then grabbed him roughly, causing him to grunt. She then threw her arms up, gripping the big shiny, golden things that were on his shoulders, then she hopped upward, bending her legs up underneath her, forcing him to react on reflex and catch her in his arms.

He then found himself standing there with the femme in his arms, her legs hanging down and bent as if she was sitting in a chair, and she had her arms wrapped around his neck. Then… she leaned in and kissed him, fully on the mouth.

And right at that moment was when Ratchet returned, carrying another tall glass of High Grade. He had just been in the middle of taking a huge swallow when he saw the optic-widening sight before him. He totally choked on his drink, then clutched at his throat, allowing the glass to fall on the floor. It shattered noisily at his feet, its glowing pink contents spreading all over the place.

Right at that moment, Red Alert came rushing in to see what all the commotion was about. The medic wasn't watching where she was going—mostly because she had spotted Dreamer and Prowl and what they were doing—so she ended up slipping on the spilled High Grade. She went sliding all the way down the hallway and wound up falling into a mech's lap on one of the benches.

Dreamer, who had broken the kiss by now, had seen the whole thing. She pointed at Red Alert and went quietly hysterical. Then, to her credit, she passed out again.

Prowl glanced around sheepishly, then quickly set Dreamer down on the nearby bench. He could feel Ratchet's optics boring into his back.

"I… should be going now," the ninja said, sounding quite awkward and uncomfortable.

"You do that," Ratchet growled softly as the ninja made a hasty retreat. He sighed wearily, pressing a servo against his forehead. As if this day hadn't been crazy enough already.

A janitor came in and began to clean up the broken glass and the spilled High Grade, and Ratchet decided it would be best to take Dreamer home. Of course, Arcee might have her servos full with Skidraider, but Ratchet wasn't sure what else to do.

"Ratchet… go," said a somewhat shaky voice behind him. He turned to see Red Alert standing there, with her arms folded. "We can take care of things here… go home and… take care of your daughter. I think you've been through enough here for now anyway."

"Yeah, sure," Ratchet grumbled in spite of himself. Sure, leaving all of the things that were going on here to take his daughter home, then deal with her there while she was still high… yeah. That didn't sound much different from staying here and dealing with everything going on at the hospital.

Although perhaps it might be a slight step up… since he'd have Arcee with him, and Dreamer was only one "patient" to deal with, so to speak.

With that, Ratchet transformed into his vehicle mode and used the magnets in his wrists to bring Dreamer inside. Then he drove off, headed for the nearest exit.

Shortly after they left, Red Alert received a summon from Ironhide. It seemed that she was going to be leaving the hospital as well; she was… going somewhere.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

When Slipstream entered the Decepticon leader's office, she noticed him sitting in a chair at a work console. He seemed to be in the middle of looking at something, and he never glanced up from it even as she approached.

"Ah, Slipstream," Megatron said, his optics still glued to whatever he was doing. "Just the fem-bot I wanted to see." With that, he glanced at her over his shoulder. "I have considered matters at great length, and I have reached a decision."

Slipstream eyed him carefully with her optics. What was he talking about? Since he had summoned her here, this decision had something to do with her.

Megatron rose to his full height and placed his servos on his hips, his presence towering over her. Slipstream's optics widened slightly, but she did not flinch or give much reaction. She folded her arms across her chest, still looking up at him.

"I am hereby appointing you as my second-in-command," he told the femme. "From here on out."

Slipstream's optics blinked. Well, that was certainly a different spin on things. She honestly hadn't expected him to even go so far as select another second-in-command. And out of all the bots, he'd chosen her?

She quickly snapped out of her daze and straightened, saluting. "Thank you, sir!" she said firmly. Really, there wasn't much else she could say.

Megatron's mouth curved upward into a small smile. "Serve under me well, and you will stand by my side when we conquer Cybertron and defeat the Autobots."

Slipstream lowered her servo. "I will," she promised. Her processor was still recovering from slight shock, so she was unable to do much thinking about the new turn of events yet.

"Now," Megatron said, turning his head and indicating the console, "I have been monitoring some of the public broadcasts from Cybertron, from here. Apparently Nemesis Prime has been found out and discovered… all because he had to go and do something stupid."

"What did he do?" Slipstream asked.

"Apparently he raped the femme formerly known as BlackArachnia."

Slipstream's optics blinked. Nemesis had raped that half-organic freak whom she had shared a cell with? Well, at least neither of them had wound up at the stockade, and that was a good thing. Still… Slipstream felt that no femme deserved that… not even the freak of nature.

"So," she said after a moment, "what are we going to do now?"

"We are going to make use of our hostage," Megatron told her.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Looking over the ship as it passengers boarded, Ironhide scowled when his optics fell on a certain magenta seeker. He was openly against the Council's decision of letting Starscream get out early, let alone be in Chromia's charge. What were they all thinking? If they were going to let that Con go he could have been under some mech's charge; NOT his girlfriend. Well, that was one of the reasons he was coming along on the mission to find the Magnus.

Some others were coming too of course. There were a few members from his old group, like Rodimus Prime, Red Alert, and Brawn. Except for Hot Shot this time, they were bringing along Blurr. The blue speed demon was ready to fight back and, for personal reasons, hunt down Shockwave.

Noticing her boyfriend's scowl Chromia went to his side. As she placed a servo on his shoulder they both saw Starscream get "escorted" up the ramp into the ship. He let out his complaints as he was dragged.

"I don't need you puny bots to carry me! I am more than capable of walking myself thank you!" He continued on with threats and mild name calling which gave Ironhide another reason to not trust that mech.

"He's switched sides you know," Chromia stated calmly. "He no longer has that Decepticon symbol on his wings."

"Yeah, but I ain't seein' the Autobot insignia there either…" the orange bot grumbled.


	35. Chapter 35

Megatron had ordered Optimus Magnus to be moved into one of the larger rooms within the vessel. Optimus was quite weak from the torture he'd been forced to endure, plus he was energon deprived. Megatron had not allowed him to have any refuel whatsoever. Plus there was the fact that Optimus was securely restrained on the mobile berth, so he definitely wasn't going anywhere.

Most of the Decepticons were doing various tasks around the vessel, although Megatron had a few with him. Slipstream was present, as were Lugnut and Shockwave.

Basically, Megatron had decided to make a visual recording of the Magnus, in order to transmit it to Cybertron. Hopefully it would help things to work in his favor. However, the camera equipment wasn't working all that well, due to the fact that it was very old, so Megatron ended up ordering Shockwave and Lugnut to come with him in order to assist in repairing it.

Lugnut got the "wonderful" task of being everyone's gopher, while Shockwave and Soundwave worked on repairing the equipment. Megatron simply supervised for the most part.

This meant that Slipstream got left alone with Optimus Magnus. He was chained securely to the berth, his optics offline. He was, after all, in deep recharge—his systems were probably trying to conserve energy.

The femme studied him thoughtfully. She still remembered her brief encounter with him on Earth, when she had mistaken him for Starscream. In many ways, this Autobot didn't seem all that impressive… at least not then.

Nevertheless, he had apparently managed to become the big leader of the Autobots, and had played a big role in the recent political issues there. And yet, despite of all the political power he had achieved… he had still been stripped of his power (in a manner of speaking) upon being captured, plus he'd been stripped of the Magnus hammer, and even his wings.

Now he lay on the berth, even more helpless than a sparkling.

"How can an Autobot with so much power, and so much worth," she murmured, moving to stand just beside the berth, "possibly have allowed himself to be overpowered so easily? It's pathetic and disgusting!"

She almost thought she saw him stir slightly, although she couldn't be sure. Maybe it was just in imagination. She leaned over him, peering into his damaged features. His chin was a bit dented from where Megatron had punched him, and his chassis had so much damage and scarring that it was a wonder his spark chamber was undamaged.

She slowly traced some of the larger cracks in his torso plating with her fingertips, then withdrew her servo. "That's definitely got to be painful," she commented, then smiled cruelly. "Then again, one bot's pain is another bot's pleasure." She snickered. Megatron had obviously had a good time… but why should he get to have all the fun?

In spite of herself, she found her fingertips gently prying at the edges of his cracked and damaged armor playing. Some of the little fractures splintered into larger cracks, which joined the other cracks that already existed. She hesitated, having second thoughts about what she was doing.

In fact, she wasn't even sure what she doing. Then again, she was still a fairly young femme, since she hadn't been online for too long. Certainly not as long as any of the other Decepticons onboard—with the exception of her brothers. She was still a virgin, and she was at least curious about… certain things, especially since Decepticons sometimes didn't have the same restraints as most Autobots.

In her own way… Slipstream was curious, she had to admit. Yet if she… snuck a peek, so to speak, she'd have to be very careful. She was no medic and she wasn't sure if anything she did would damage his circuitry in his weakened state. Megatron didn't mind if the Autobot suffered, but he didn't want him dead.

So, with exaggerated care, Slipstream began to slowly ease the outer torso plating off of Optimus's chest. He stirred slightly, but otherwise remained quite still. Once she got it off, she found that the armor actually finished cracking up in her servos, to the point where parts of it fell to the floor in pieces. Ah, well, she simply wouldn't be putting it back on, then…

Very slowly, she began to run her fingers along the bare, grayish plating beneath his removed outer armor. She then found the access point to his spark, enabling it to open. Her optics widened when she saw his spark, and she gently poked a finger at it with her fingertip.

Electricity surged, causing a small jolt to shoot from the spark, into her finger and up through her servo and lower arm. She yelped and yanked her arm back, then hissed as she rubbed it.

Optimus moaned, stirring slightly, but then he went completely still again.

Several seconds passed; nothing else happened.

Still curious and oddly determined, Slipstream bent over him again and began to slid her fingers along his chest, wondering if this was what lust felt like. If so… then she found it quite pleasurable, and she wanted to know what it felt like to feel more of… this.

Being careful to avoid touching his spark again, she gently groped around the outer edges of his spark chamber, knowing that it had to be there somewhere… something which was a necessary part of interfacing.

Her mouth curled slightly as she remembered just who had taught her about interfacing in the first place. Starscream had told her all about it, and now part of her wondered if he'd only done that because… maybe he wanted to have an interface session with her at some point. Frankly… the thought was disgusting.

Nevertheless, she was putting that knowledge to good use right now. Her fingers then, at that very moment, found that which they sought; the end of Optimus's interface cord. She smiled as she pulled it out, running her fingers over it and giving it a good look. She even stuck her fingertip into the end of the plug, then inhaled sharply. Did she just feel a tingle?

Optimus stirred again, ever so slightly. Did he just… moan a little?

"Well, now."

Slipstream nearly jumped out of her armor plating when familiar, deep voice spoke behind her. She dropped Optimus's interface cord, suddenly feeling very stupid and sheepish. Somehow, her embarrassment only intensified when the interface cord—apparently having decided that it wasn't going to be used—withdrew itself back into its area below the spark chamber.

"M-Megatron!" she exclaimed, then felt the color pixels in her cheeks shading toward red when she realized that he was carrying the camera… and it was now operating, and it was running. It was recording her right now. How long had he been standing there?

Megatron smirked, then shut off the camera and set it aside on the floor. Once he was certain the door was closed behind him, he moved toward her. "Now I have something to ensure your loyalty," he said as his mischievous look intensified. "I know that out of all of Starscream's clones, you are the one who is the most… ambitious. And intelligent. Don't think for a moment that I am not somewhat cautious, especially considering what the original Starscream did."

Slipstream tensed. Part of her was ready to go for the camera, to smash it into scrap, even if that would no doubt get her into even more trouble than she was already. But which was better, the risk of becoming labeled a "traitor" or possibly being thrown in the brig at least… or just letting him blackmail her like this?

"Plus I think I know why you were doing what you just did," Megatron went on, eyeing her carefully with his optics. "I have observed this sort of thing before. You are still a young femme, although definitely mature enough to be… curious."

Slipstream hissed and then made a move toward the camera, barely even thinking about what she was doing. Only she was stopped when Megatron grabbed her roughly by the arms, blocking her path. He then held her firmly, staring down into her face. "No, you're not going to destroy it," he told her. "However, if you agree to simply work with me, as my second-in-command, I can… satisfy any curiosities you may have."

She stiffened, yet otherwise remained motionless and said nothing. It wasn't like she could move at the moment anyway, unless she wanted to try and wrestle free.

"You have no doubt experienced a mere taste of the pleasures that interfacing, even spark-bonding, can bring," Megatron told her. "And it has been a long, long time since I have even… touched a suitable femme."

Slipstream's spark began to pulse more quickly in her chassis, and she realized that in a way, she was being seduced. Yet she was finding it very, very difficult to refuse his offer.

"I…" Her vocalizer rasped, and she made a throat-clearing sound. "I… want this."

Megatron smiled, his red optics flashing even more brightly than before. He released her arms and leaned in, pressing his lip components against hers. She pressed against him, her spark flaring with passion within her chassis, as she felt this new sensation of lust intensifying.

Suddenly, Megatron grabbed her gently but firmly by the shoulders, pushing her back. "Business before pleasure," he told her. "I still have to make a recording of the Magnus to send to Cybertron."

Slipstream groaned, staring up at him with wide, almost pleading optics. Part of her actually hated herself for the way she was looking at him, and the way she felt. Her logic circuits were barely functioning at all at this point, although some small part of her, deep down, realized that he had interfaced before, and so he knew how to deal with the lustful impulses. He could put them aside and carry on with his tasks, saving his desires for later… or possibly even dismissing them altogether.

She couldn't do that. She didn't know how. Plus… hadn't Starscream told her something once, about how it was sometimes difficult to resist, especially the first time, once a young bot was truly aroused and prepared for interfacing?

In truth, even though she didn't—and couldn't—think about it much at the moment, due to her professor being so clouded and fuzzy… she was essentially at Megatron's mercy at the moment.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Elita slowly slipped into the room where Sentinel was. She hadn't been told directly who "Nemesis" really was, but she had caught snippets of conversation and when she peered in at the silent, motionless form of the berth within the private room… what she saw confirmed what she had heard.

All of the modifications had been removed, and Sentinel had been restored to looking almost like his old self. Although one thing she noticed was that enormous chin of his was, actually, a bit smaller… and that "goatee" screw was missing as well, replaced by simple, smooth blue metal.

Ah well, those things never exactly flattered his features anyway…

She slowly crept toward him. Somehow… it was difficult to believe that this was the same bot who had forced himself on her. The appearance of the bot who had attacked her was that of Optimus, this was Sentinel.

Yes, she knew that this bot had done this terrible thing to her, not Optimus. But nevertheless, the image of Optimus's face as he grabbed her and forced himself on her… she would never be able to forgive that. Yet the fact that she was now bonded to Sentinel, and carried his sparkling…

Well, this simply rekindled the old hatred she felt for both bots. Some small part of her argued that this was not Optimus's fault, but that image was burned into her processor. She felt that she could not help but hate him now, even though he hadn't done a single thing. In fact, he had helped her… and she had even been in the process of thanking him—or whom she thought was him—when… this happened.

She scowled down at Sentinel's sleeping features. "You don't deserve to live," she snarled. "I don't know why you did that, but my venom should have killed you. I don't want to be bonded to you, and I certainly don't want your sparkling!"

Yeah, it somehow made it easier to think of it as his sparkling, since he had forced himself on her. It made it seem like it was somehow not hers, or perhaps simply a useless extension on her spark, like fungus growing on a tree.

Did she want the sparkling? No. However, there was no getting rid of it; that much she knew. She'd heard vaguely of this thing that humans did if they did not want their developing offspring, where they got it "aborted", but that simply was not an option for Cybertronian femmes. In truth, the sparkling was infused with the mother's spark while it was developing, especially in the very early stages. If she tried to remove it before it was ready to detach and be placed into a protoform, it would probably kill her.

"So yet another piece of shame you've left me with," she growled under her breath. This wasn't something she could simply—to borrow a human metaphor—bury under the carpet. The sparkling would be a reminder of what happened to her.

Suddenly she heard someone coming. She then quickly slipped out of the room, heading back to her own room. Hopefully no one would notice she was gone. She had simply had to see for herself if it was really true, if that really was Sentinel. Now she went back to her room and sat down on her berth, sighing deeply. In truth, she didn't want to stay here, but she didn't have anywhere to go, either.

She did not want to be seen outside, not after what happened to her.

She simply lay back on her berth and sighed deeply. All things considered… she almost wished she was simply back in her cell, brooding and bored out of her mind. At least then she wouldn't have to worry about a sparkling she did not want, or an unwanted spark-bond.

She offlined her optics, trying to will herself into recharge. Since she was sharing her energon reserves, as well as her electrical impulses, while the sparkling was developing… she had to be more careful, until it was fully developed. It drained her energy reserves as it grew and developed.

She realized she was absent-mindedly running a servo over her torso plating. Crud, was she starting to develop the femme instincts that kicked in when a sparkling was developing? The natural protectiveness toward an under-developed sparkling? She didn't want that… although it seemed that the deep, maternal programming was starting to assert itself.

She sighed, allowing her optics to flicker online so she could stare at the ceiling. Well, at least she was in a hospital room. That way, she could be away from prying optics, and she could have all the energon she needed. The doctors and medics annoyed her quite a bit, but at least they made sure she was healthy.

But what, exactly, was she going to do about Sentinel? Having the sparkling was one thing. But having a mate she didn't want… was another.

She'd always been in control, in the past. She had seduced those Dinobot morons, she'd seduced Wasp, and she had even used her feminine wiles on Optimus and some of his old team on Earth. But never, ever, had anything like this happened to her.

She willed herself into recharge, not wanting to think about this anymore. She was low on energy, so she simply wanted to sleep, and get some energon when she woke up.

Ugh, apparently her maternal programming truly was activated and asserting itself. She was finding it quite difficult to force herself to stay awake and alert, due to the fact that the sparkling needed a lot of energy. Her energy. It was like a leech.

No… not a leech… like a child dependant on its mother…

"This motherly mode is going to drive me nuts," was the last thing Elita growled before sleep took over.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

Sentinel Prime had been somewhat aware of Elita when she'd been in the room, or at least aware of a presence. He had been unable to move, speak, or acknowledge the presence in any way, but he felt it strongly in his spark.

Nemesis Prime didn't care, though. He chided himself for being so careless, for giving into his… passions, quite so easily. He had thus let Megatron down, and failed.

This was the beginning of an internal struggle within his processor. Somehow or other, Sentinel had begun to remerge, but Nemesis Prime—the newer identity—had more willpower at the moment. After all, Sentinel had been in shock, comatose and locked away, after his experiences in the Pit and then being abruptly returned to his own body. Nemesis on the other hand, well, he had been fully integrated into the body's processor and systems. Nemesis was in control, and wasn't ready to give it up anytime soon.

And so, the battle began.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Ironhide glared at Starscream.

And Starscream stared right back.

Their little "I can glare better" contest went unnoticed by Chromia and the rest of the crew as they continued on with the mission at hand. Red Alert was helping Blurr scan for any Decepticon energy signatures and Brawn and Rodimus were drawing out different ways to get Optimus out of Omega Supreme once they all got there. Chromia, meanwhile, was sorting out various files and holograms to present to the Council once the mission was done. If they succeeded that is.

Ironhide was having his shift of watching Starscream. Not that is was entirely necessary. The large Seeker was in view of everybody and at the moment weaponless. That didn't stop the "guard" though.

"I don' trust you," Ironhide stated flatly. At the remark Starscream faked a tiny and sarcastic pout.

"And I thought we were warming up to be very good friends…"

"Why you slaggin' no good!-"

"Ironhide!" Chromia interrupted from the other side of the deck. "What did I tell you earlier?"

As tough as the orange mech was…he couldn't take the wrath of a femme. Especially a certain blue one nearby. He growled quietly as he heard his charge snicker.

"To NOT mess with…him," He replied quietly, not even wanting to say his name. Chromia however was satisfied and proceeded to her filing.

"Aw, are you going to be nice to me…for her?" Starscream teased lightly with his trademark smirk. Ironhide merely gave him another dirty look before facing the other way.

"Shut up ya Con," he muttered.

0o0o0o0o0o0

"First Prowl, then my dad…now Optimus?" Sari yelled at the screen. At the moment Bulkhead had done the favor of telling Sari and Bumblebee about Nemesis. Since he worked for the Council and was a friend of Optimus, he was one of the first to know.

"Look, Sari, the bossbot's gotta a chance to live. I heard there's a rescue team that's being sent and for now we can only wait," The giant green bot explained. The techno organic's optics glowed brightly in frustration, but Bee picked her up and tried to sooth her.

"Well…thanks for telling us big guy. I'll…take it from here."

Bulkhead gave a small grin and cut the link. Being his best friend, the bridge technician knew of the pair's relationship. Bumblebee looked down at Sari and saw that she was sitting cross legged resting her head on her hands. Her face was beaming with anger.

"That's all I've been doing since I got here…waiting," she huffed. "I barely helped Prowl with his mission, when the city was attacked YOU wouldn't let me out!-" here Bee flinched a bit- "I couldn't go to my own father's funeral from that! And now Optimus is…" She then let out an angry shriek, grabbing her hair.

"Hey! Calm down Sari!" Bumblebee said raising his voice.

"NO! I'VE BEEN COMPLETELY WORTHLESS EVER SINCE I GOT HERE! ALL I CAN DO IS PLAY THOSE STUPID GAMES AND TALK TO YOU!" Sari then bit her lip and curled up into a ball against Bee's chassis.

"How do ya think I feel?" he replied surprisingly calm like.

"Huh?" Sari said looking up.

"For one, I'm jobless. So I gotta stay here at Bulkhead's place and be a worthless bum," He looked down at his girlfriend with hurt optics as he said, "And don't think I can't feel it either. I've been hurt a lot lately…especially when I see you like this. Please Sari…just…be happy for me," Bumblebee then stroked her head with his free servo gently. She leaned in to his touch.

"And besides, what's so bad about talking to ME?" he added with a playful huff. Sari couldn't help but giggle. He gave her a wide smile.

"That's my girl! And if you really want a job, we could, well, look for one. When things calm down I mean," he said. Sari got up to nuzzle his neck and hung on to him there.

"Deal," she answered.

"Then it's a plan," Bumblebee said softly. He planted a small kiss on her head. A moment passed before any of them said something.

"Sari?"

"Hmm?"

"…Are my games actually stupid?"

Sari could only give him a friendly knock on the head as she laughed.


	36. Chapter 36

Dreamer tossed and turned a little bit on the berth in her bedroom. The sedative was finally wearing off, and even though she felt a bit drowsy, she was definitely regaining consciousness.

As soon as Ratchet had gotten her home, she had been given some regular energon, and shortly after that the worst of the drunkenness began to wear off. Shortly after that, it really came to her what she had done back at the hospital. More than anything else, she vividly remembered jumping into Prowl's arms and kissing him… in front of everyone.

Ever since the processor wipe, Dreamer had been pretty much your average shy, adolescent femme. That combined with the fact that she was still having some mental—and possibly emotional—problems… she just went ballistic, going on and on about how humiliated she was and how she could never show her face in public again.

In the end, Ratchet had been forced to use a strong sedative on her, just to quiet her down. She had slipped into recharge then, and so her adoptive parents left her alone.

But now, she was awakening. It was the middle of the night, and she was feeling the effects of the sedative, the lingering effects of being drunk and a very slight hang-over. She still felt painfully embarrassed, but somehow… the feeling was a lot more bearable now.

She slowly pushed herself up off the berth, swinging her legs over the side. She felt quite stiff, but mobile. She wasn't sure what she was doing or where she was going… maybe she just wanted to stretch her legs.

"Ugh, how could I have done that?" she muttered to herself. She should have known drinking that stuff was stupid. And she had acted stupid because of it. Of course she would never touch the stuff again, but it didn't really matter now, did it? It was done, and that scene was forever burned into her processor… along with everyone else's.

Of course, she knew Arcee would simply say that she had learned her lesson then, and she was better off for it. But that didn't make Dreamer feel much better at all. It still happened. Other bots had seen it, and had stared at her. And now… Prowl would always remember the way she kissed him.

So "learning her lesson" didn't really make it better, did it? Not doing something stupid again wouldn't erase her memory, or the memories of the other bots.

She found herself wandering aimlessly through the home until she came near the front door. Well, maybe it wouldn't hurt anything if she went out for a while.

At least she could… go for a walk. She was still too scared to transform. She didn't want to get stuck in bike-mode again.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Elita awoke from recharge and was mildly surprised to see none other than Perceptor standing above her. She felt slightly chilled by his stoic presence and cold, unemotional features.

He wordlessly handed a glass of energon toward her. The gesture in of itself was purely matter-of-fact.

Elita took the glass warily, glancing at it before taking a sip. Still, there was no point in a bot drugging a femme… was there? And no one had done anything to her yet. In fact they seemed to care a great deal for the sparkling she carried.

"Elita," Perceptor spoke while she drank, in his usual unemotional voice, "we have examined Sentinel's processor and found that he is attempting to re-assert himself, through the fake identity that was implanted into him."

"Yeah, yeah, so Sentinel's fighting Nemesis, bit deal," Elita growled after she finished draining her glass. Holy Primus, she still felt hungry, as if that one glass had barely replenished her at all. Apparently being sparked really did take a lot out of a femme.

As if anticipating her need, Perceptor produced another glass of energon, handing it to her. As she sipped it, he spoke again. "We think it is possible that if Sentinel can regain control of himself, he might be able to give us information about the Decepticons… especially if he can access and gain control of Nemesis's memories."

"So why are you telling me this?" Elita asked, then sucked down the last bit of energon in her glass.

"It may be possible for you to assist Sentinel Prime in regaining control, and re-asserting his personality and will," Perceptor answered. "Through your bond with him."

This wasn't exactly what Elita wanted to hear, not by a long shot. She did not want to be reminded of that bond she shared, especially since it had been forced on her. And she certainly did not want to help the person who had raped her.

"I'm not going in there," she spat, thrusting the empty glass at him. "Especially not to help him!"

Perceptor's head moved smoothly aside, allowing the glass to fly past his head and shatter against the wall behind him. His expression never changed, aside from a slight flickering of his optics while he was dodging the glass. "The choice, of course, is yours," he said matter-of-factly, as he handed her yet another glass. "If you wish to try and help him… you know what room he is in. Contact one of the medics." With that, he turned and walked out.

Elita watched him go, clutching the glass of energon he'd given her tightly in her servo. What did he mean, she knew where the room was? None of the medics had shown her…

Unless maybe they somehow knew that she had snuck into Sentinel's room not too long ago. Growling, she sucked down the rest of her energon. Nosey Autobots. They didn't seem to let much slip past them.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Skywarp knew he was in trouble. He'd always been easily frightened, and he was used to being scared of everything. He was afraid of getting hurt, sometimes he was afraid of the other Decepticons, and he was also afraid of the dark. And sometimes, if he really looked down while he was flying—if he wasn't too focused on fleeing from something else that frightened him—he was even afraid of heights.

But this time, he was more scared than ever. And that was really saying something. A lot of the Decepticons, even his own brothers and his sister, were getting tired of him, apparently. They kept calling him a coward to his face, and sometimes they would even threaten him lightly with their weapons, or even sneak up behind him and yell just to frighten him further.

In some ways, he was really getting tired of it. And yet, the one time that he tried being courageous for once… it actually got him into a whole heap of trouble. The trouble that he was in right now.

He was actually on his way toward his sister's quarters, in order to try and give her a piece of his processor about the way she had treated him sometimes. She had belittled him, shoved him aside on occasion, even threatened him to get him to do what she wanted. He figured that maybe he could start with her. He could try and tell her that he was no longer going to put up with any of that treatment. After all, if he could not work up the courage to confront a femme… he would never get the courage to confront anyone.

And so, he considered this the ultimate test of himself. To see if he could do this. It would be his big test of courage.

And so, after a moment's preparation, he had gone right into Slipstream's room, without even knocking. The door had been locked, but since he was one of Starscream's clones, and had special codes in his processor that could unlock almost any door, he was able to let himself in.

Then… well, that was how he got into trouble. He had walked in to see Megatron on top of Slipstream, on her berth, and well… he quickly forgot the details of what he saw, because he forcefully erased them, plus the Burning Glare of Death that Megatron shot him replaced any other memory he might have had of that moment.

More panicked than he'd ever been before, he screamed at the top of his lungs and fled the room. He'd spent the next two mega-cycles being chased after, until he'd finally managed to find a safe place to hide.

It was a snug, dark storage compartment. He was afraid of tight spaces, as well as dark places, and all of this stress and panic was almost enough to induce a spark-attack. But he managed to relieve some of the stress by slipping into stasis—it was a defense that his systems had, a part of his programming that kicked in if he got too frightened and stressed.

Starscream had placed that fail-safe protocol in him because he'd gotten tired of Skywarp burning out portions of his circuitry when the fear levels got too high.

And so, Skywarp slept. But even in the depths of stasis, he knew that his life was in danger. If nothing else, Megatron was probably going to hurt him somehow… badly. And this invaded his dreams.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Nemesis wanted to stay in control. He was in control, and he worked for Megatron… even if he had badly screwed things up. He wanted to get control, to get out of this place, and possibly get back to the Decepticons. Then maybe… Megatron would forgive him for his failures, and he could fight alongside with his Decepticon brothers.

Sentinel, however, was fighting for control with all the willpower he had. Part of him had always been a coward, part of him had always been a glory hound… and it seemed as though Nemesis was trying to feed on these qualities he had, to merge with him and force him into submission. Nemesis wanted to be in control, but he would allow Sentinel to be present as well, if he cooperated.

Nemesis was quite loyal to the Decepticons. Especially since… they had created him. At the very least… they had created his personality and identity. He felt he owed them that, especially since the Autobots would never take him in or accept him now. Not after they found out he'd been impersonating their leader, and especially not after what he'd done to that femme.

Sentinel, however, was going through a lot of emotional turmoil. He was forced to see ugly things within himself that he'd never wanted to acknowledge before. In truth… he'd always been perfectly fine with the way he was, so long as he achieved his goals and got whatever he wanted. He loved getting attention, he loved getting credit… he loved being seen as a hero.

But now, Nemesis Prime wrestled with him, and in the process he had no choice but to see what he was, and what he'd done.

For the first time in his life… Sentinel began to feel… guilt. He felt at least some remorse for what he'd done to Optimus, and for his attitude in general.

However… he knew that at least he hadn't raped Elita, that had been Nemesis.

Nevertheless, Nemesis insisted that Sentinel had done it, too. Since they were both a part of each other.

"NO!" Sentinel exploded, forcing the word out through his clenched dental plating.

"Oh yes," Nemesis told him. "You are me, and I am in control here, whether you like it or not. Don't you see? We are a part of each other, and your actions are mine. I am the darker part of your nature. The Decepticons brought that out in you!"

"No…"

"You know it as well as I do. You wanted to be Magnus. You didn't get that honor, Optimus did… the very bot who you felt wasn't worthy to scrap off the bottom of your foot plating. So then you joined the Decepticons… then began to think it wasn't a good idea. So then you turned on them, just to get killed.

"You then went to the Pit," Nemesis went on, "but got a second chance at life. Then I took over your pathetic existence, and then I was able to gain leadership of Cybertron by impersonating Optimus."

"Which you ruined," Sentinel spat, interrupting the other personality. "Why did you have to do that too her?"

"What do you care?" Nemesis asked. "You were the one who called her a disgusting freak when you first saw her on Earth."

"I… know…"

"Oh is that regret I hear, Sentinel ol' boy? You surprise me."

"I… realized something right before I died… you make your own choices during life, and then you get judged for them accordingly. I ended up in the Pit… so what have I done to be judged in a good way?"

"Nothing, you worthless slag heap."

0o0o0o0o0o0o

Elita was not sure why she'd found herself going to Sentinel's room. She did not want to be anywhere near him, especially after what Perceptor had said to her. But somehow or other… she found herself going there anyway.

And as she stood just outside the doorway, she found herself listening to what sounded like Sentinel talking to himself. Yet… even as she stood there, she slowly realized that it was Nemesis and Sentinel arguing with each other.

When Sentinel spoke, he spoke with his old voice, the very voice that haunted her dreams for years after she'd been abandoned on the planet with the spiders. Nemesis's voice was like a poor imitation of Optimus's, holding an odd, creepy deepness to it.

As she listened to the words being exchanged, she found herself feeling confused. She wasn't sure what this talk of death or the Pit was about, unless Sentinel had had a dream of going there. Part of her felt like he did deserve to go there. Yet another part of her found herself listening to the words…

Sentinel was struggling to get free, to regain control of his processor and body. Nemesis… if she understood correctly, and if any of this was really true, was a different personality and yet represented everything negative that existed in Sentinel.

She let out a low hiss. Oh it would be so, so easy to simply kill him right now, in his helpless state. He sure deserved it. First he abandoned her all those years ago, then he raped her. He did not deserve to live. And if somehow he had seen the Pit or been there… he deserved to go right back.

Yet something tugged on her spark. Perhaps it was due to the bond, or the sparkling she carried, or both. But either way… for some reason, she felt as though she wanted to at least try to think of someone else, besides herself… just once.

"I have got to be crazy," she growled out loud. Why should she help Sentinel at all? He'd only given her a sparkling she didn't want, (even if it was Nemesis, but meh, same difference) plus he'd abandoned her. And he was an egotistical jerk.

Still… what was that he had said out loud, about having done nothing that would bring good judgment upon him? If that was true somehow… what did that say about her, and everything she'd done?

No, she couldn't think about that. She just couldn't! Everything she had done, she had done because she'd needed to! Because the Autobots would never have helped her—

But then again… they have helped her. And now that she had sparked, they were still helping her…

She could have been a lot worse off, but she wasn't. She was getting help, and no one was abandoning her anymore. Maybe… maybe she owed something back.

Elita released a loud, shrieking hiss that pretty much expressed every single emotion she was feeling at the moment. Then finally, with some reluctance, she said out loud, "Fine… I will do what I can to help Sentinel."

With that, she slowly moved closer to the bunk, then placed her hand on his chest, just above his spark chamber, trying to form a more solid connection through her bond. She then offlined her optics, in order to concentrate more fully on what she was doing.

0o0o0o0o0o0

The Autobots were still busy with various tasks onboard the shuttle. Starscream, however, was currently busy staring at his reflection in one of the windows, touching his chin and tipping his head to the left, then to the right.

"If I am going to be with the Autobots... I almost wonder if I should get a new paint job for myself," he commented out loud. In some ways the thought was tempting, although at the same time he wasn't sure. He liked the way he looked, after all.

"Well, a lighter color wouldn't hurt much."

Turning around Starscream saw Chromia holding a data pad to her chest and a playful look in her optics. She smiled as he scowled, "What are you doing here femme?...and what do you mean a lighter color?"

"Just that blue, purple and gray are Decepticon colors," Chromia told him, glancing him over. "You may not have the insignia anymore, but you still have the look of a Decepticon."

Starscream's scowl deepened. "And what exactly would you suggest?"

"Maybe a lighter shade of blue, at least."

"Humph! Well, I'll take your advisement into consideration," Starscream huffed. "But I'm sure you didn't come here to talk about my paint job."

"Your right," Chromia replied. "Rodimus Prime wants you in the Communications Room with Ironhide. He figures we're close enough for you to help trace the Decepticons' energy signatures." She glanced down at her data pad before adding, "And you should be there in about seven cycles."

Starscream nodded. "Very well," he said. He wasn't really doing all that much right now, so he figured he might as well go straight there. All things considered, it felt like this was the first time the Autobots were really letting him do much, although then again, he was a former Decepticon. So he knew it made sense.

He headed straight for the communications room, then went straight in once he got there. "So, you need my help?" he said, a slight sneer on his face as he looked toward Ironhide.

Ironhide ignored his question and pointed to a seat next to him. "Sit here. Your programmin' is more acute to the signals than our scanners. In order to save our Magnus...we need all the help we can get." The orange mech then took his seat, expecting Starscream to do the same.

Starscream hesitated for a moment, then sat down in the seat beside the Autobot. He then took a moment to familiarize himself with the controls in front of him, and then set to work.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Dreamer found that walking around in robot mode, well, took forever. So she finally decided to take a chance and try transforming. It took considerable effort, and at first she thought she wasn't going to be able to do it. But finally, she did it.

Then, satisfied that she was back in her bike mode, she sped off down the street, simply going for a joyride.

Suddenly though, her front tire hit corner of a curve as she tried turning too fast—and it turned out to be a very sharp curve. It tore a large, gaping hole through her tire and caused her to careen out of control, hitting the side of one of the nearby buildings.

She was not badly hurt, only a little banged up with a few dents here or there. But… she couldn't move. Because she couldn't transform back into robot mode.

So she was unable to drive anywhere—not with a flat tire, at least—and she was too shaken up to transform. She was still trying to get the hang of the transformation process anyway.

So she did the only thing she could do. "HELP!" she bellowed as loudly as her vocalizer could yell.

A couple of moments later, she heard a familiar voice saying above her, "Need a servo?"

She twisted herself around just enough to glance upward, using her sensors. Her spark skipped a beat when she realized it was none other than Prowl. The fact that he saw her like this, combined with the fact that she still painfully remembered the events at the hospital, made her wish the ground would open up and swallow her whole.

Oh, Primus… please kill me now, she begged silently.


	37. Chapter 37

Elita didn't even realized she was gritting her dental plating the more she focused. She was feeling considerable strain in her spark, as it attempted to reach out and aide Sentinel in his mental battle. Her spark-pulse quickened, and she could feel it swelling within her chassis as she attempted to reach out through the Bond. She also felt the sparkling getting a bit agitated, feeling uncomfortable due to the stress that its source of comfort, security and nourishment was enduring right now.

No, part of Elita's processor corrected, The sparkling is not an it… but a she. She wasn't sure how she knew, she just… knew. Although she had heard that sometimes, especially during times of great duress, the sparkling may call out more or become a bit more… needy, with drew it deeper within the mother's spark. This did nothing to hinder the mother or the sparkling, but it did give Elita more of an idea of who and what her sparkling was.

In fact… she saw flashes of a barely developed essence, even just a thread of a developing personality. It wasn't enough to have any form of conversation with the sparkling yet, but she could definitely tell that it would be a femme when it was finished developing and placed into a protoform body. On top of that… she detected a potential for high intelligence in her daughter.

Her thoughts on the sparkling were distracted when she felt something else. She was getting through to Sentinel… although Nemesis was there as well. Both identities had detected her, and Nemesis was not happy.

What's more was that Elita saw that through the bond that Sentinel was slowly losing. He was gradually allowing Nemesis to overpower his will, to be submerged, because he couldn't think of any reason to keep fighting. Sentinel felt strong waves of guilt in remorse, believing that his life had been a waste, and even when he'd been given a second chance at life, it had still been a waste. He was slipping deeper into apathy… losing the will to fight.

Elita was still puzzled… had he somehow been to the Pit and brought back? Well, whatever the case… it wasn't important now.

Suddenly, Elita found herself doing something—and she wasn't sure what motivated her to do it, but… it just felt right somehow. "Sentinel!" she grated through clenched teeth, thinking her message as hard as she could even as she said it aloud, trying to get it through their bond. "Sentinel… fight him. For our daughter's sake… fight him."

Shortly after she did that… something in Sentinel stirred. "My… daughter?"

"Yes! Don't you feel her? In my spark, through our bond… Feel her!"

Indeed Sentinel did feel her presence, but so did Nemesis. And Nemesis chose to rear his ugly head again in the link, so to speak. "Your daughter? Ha! Merely a reminder of an oh-so-shameful act! Sentinel, you and I raped Elita, remember?"

"Sentinel!" Elita exclaimed, still trying to get through, "Ignore him. We… we need to forget about… what happened in the past. Sentinel, don't you dare die on me. I've strengthened our bond into a full bond, when it was just a partial one before—if you die on me, you could take me and your daughter with you. Do you want that?"

"No!" Sentinel exclaimed forcefully, but something in him was still hesitant. "But… all I've done! And everything Nemesis did…"

"That's right, fool," Nemesis cackled, "There is no getting away from it! Even if you win against me, you're just going to the stockade."

"Sentinel," Elita grated through her clenched dental plating, "I loved you once. Back before… everything that happened on that organic planet, and after. Sentinel… I think… if you can fight your way out of this, and regain control… I could love you again."

"…Really?"

"Yes!" Elita used her hand that was not placed over his spark chamber to feel for his servo. She found it, grabbed it, and squeezed it. "Sentinel… we've both done a lot of terrible things. Let's… both turn over a new leaf, as the organics on Earth would say. Let's do it together."

With that, something changed in Sentinel's mental stance, and then he joined forces with Elita's strength and, with considerable effort, they managed to subdue Nemesis's will, isolating and deleting the majority of his memory and personality protocols.

Nemesis Prime's one last act of defiance was to let out a loud, blood-curdling roar through Sentinel's mouth—one that sent almost every available medic and doctor in the area running in their direction.

When the first medics arrived in the room, they found Elita collapsed on top of Sentinel, looking absolutely exhausted for some reason. That and… they noted that she was holding hands with the Prime.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

After a few mega-cycles, Starscream began to detect a few blips on the scanners, but they were random and chaotic. The former Decepticon figured that Megatron may have found a way to make scanning for Omega Supreme difficult, or perhaps it was natural interference of some sort.

Whatever the case may be, something deep in his processor told him that they were getting closer to where Megatron and his minions were.

Perhaps... perhaps it was that link he shared with his clones. Yes... how could he have forgotten about that? Maybe if he could focus, he might be able to use his own link with his clones to figure out where they were.

"Yes," he said out loud to himself, "it could work."

"What could work?" Ironhide asked impatiently. He did not like having to work in the same room as the former Decepticon, especially since they didn't seem to be making any progress.

Sitting up straight and placing a servo over his spark chamber, Starscream answered, "My bond with my clones. I know they're with Megatron now, and if I could just somehow connect with one of them..." He then began to mutter to himself with an annoyed Ironhide crossing his arms.

"If you can possibly connect with these "clones", then Rodimus should know about it."

Starscream shrugged. "Fine, whatever!" he said with impatient annoyance. "I don't care. But if you want me to succeed in finding them, I need to start right away!"

Ironhide muttered something under his breath, then tapped his commlink and exchanged a few brief words with Rodimus.

A short time later, Rodimus entered the room, followed by Chromia. The femme then stood off to one side, looking curious yet wearing a serious expression on her features.

Rodimus quickly got straight to the point. "Starscream... if you think that you can get in touch with one of your clones, then... do it," he said.

Rodimus wasn't going to say this out loud, but the main reason he wanted himself and Chromia present was just to be on the safe side. There was no telling what might happen during this link... there were probably quite a few risks involved.

"Fine..." With that Starscream bowed his head and frowned in concentration. First he needed to know who was easiest to connect to. Slipstream, he knew, was too strong and intelligent to let anyone into her mind. Her brothers were not as compatible. Still, they would be smart enough to inform Megatron about it.

Except Skywarp...maybe if Starscream was careful enough, he could force the blue coward to tell him the tyrant's current location.

It took a few moments of intense concentration, so intense that Chromia thought it might do a cyber ninja proud. Although she doubted Starscream was that disciplined.

Finally, Starscream managed to pick out Skywarp's presence... and found that the clone seemed to be... hiding in a closet or dark storage room or something.

It took a few more moments, but Skywarp finally woke up from his stasis nap or whatever he was doing, and became aware of Starscream's presence.

"Please don't hurt me!" Skywarp whimpered through their mental link.

Starscream groaned, thus earning him a few looks from the Autobots, but he ignored them. "Skywarp!" he growled, some of his old annoyance with that particular bot returning, "This is a mental link, I can't do anything to hurt you!"

"But you're yelling so loudly!"

"I am not yelling!"

Starscream realized that the Autobots were staring at him. He then chose to lower his voice. "Just tell me your current location."

"I'm in so much trouble! Megatron wants to kill me!"

"We'll take care of Megatron soon enough. Tell us the location!"

"If you come here... will you protect me?"

"Yes, I promise!" Starscream said, willing to promise anything just to terminate this link as soon as possible. The vibes of fear and terror he was getting through the link were really starting to make him edgy. "Now tell me your location!"

Although Starscream still felt a bit of fear in the link, it gradually ebbed away as his processor received a numerical code of Omega Supreme's coordinates. Strange...it was some remote asteroid field, only a sector away from the Autobots' location. As soon as Skywarp was done, his cowardice once again filled their bond. Finally reaching his breaking point Starscream hissed, "Why is that slagger angry at you anyway?"

"I… I…" Skywarp gulped, and if he had been human, Starscream would have assumed he may have started doing that disgusting habit that organics had of biting his fingertips—or whatever it was that humans did. "I saw Slipstream and Megatron… interfacing in her room." He gulped again. "I walked right in on them."

Wincing at a certain mental image that came to his mind, Starscream muttered, "I...could have functioned without knowing that."

Skywarp gave a small yelp. He REALLY did not want the bot chasing him too.

"Will you still protect me?" he asked, almost like a sparkling.

"Yes, yes," Starscream promised again, in annoyance. "We'll... be there soon. Starscream out." With that, he killed the link.

With that, he turned to look at his Autobot companions. "I have the coordinates," he said, rubbing his forehead warily. He could feel a processor ache coming on.

"Then let's go to the bridge and you can enter the coordinates there," Rodimus said.

With that, they all filed out of the room, Ironhide keeping a close eye on Starscream. He wasn't going to let down his guard for one second.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Prowl raised an optic ridge, part of his visor widening slightly as he stared down at the young femme. Despite being stuck in bike mode, and slightly damaged, (although the damage to her tire was the most notable) she was trembling and practically whimpering.

In some ways he felt a bit embarrassed himself, but she looked like she was almost going to die of embarrassment. Sighing softly, Prowl moved a short distance away and called Jazz on his commlink. "Jazz, are you busy right now?"

"Not really. What's up?" came the reply.

"Um, it's a long story, but… I was wondering if you could come out here and take Dreamer home," Prowl said.

"Dreamer? Oh yeah, the former ninja who got her memory wiped. Why do you want me to take her home?"

"I would rather not talk about it," Prowl said simply.

"Eh, alrighty then. Be there in a tick."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Megatron thoughtfully turned over the two data disks he had in his servos. He was currently in his private room, looking at the two recordings. One of the disks contained the recording of, ah, Slipstream's embarrassing moment toward Optimus. The other was the recording of the Magnus's damaged condition, which Megatron would transmit to Cybertron when the moment was right.

And yet, why did he get the feeling that he would never get the chance to use it? He wasn't sure what it was, but he got the distant sense of foreboding in his spark. Almost like… something was about to happen.

No, ridiculous. Although… part of him almost wished that he still had those two cyber ninjas with him. Perhaps they could have somehow tried to sense the future or something, to see what was coming.

Then again, he didn't put too much confidence in whatever Fate might have planned for him… he made his plans and he took care of things as they happened, if anything hindered his plans.

Just like he had gotten his body back on Earth, and he had eventually gotten control of Omega Supreme… he would one day gain control of Cybertron itself. He simply needed to be patient and plan things out accordingly.

So… why could he not dismiss this feeling of impending doom in his spark?


	38. Chapter 38

Out in the far reaches of space, a bot with purple optics glanced over the information of a datapad he'd been given. He simply hoped that this information was worth it, because he had given away quite a few of the items he'd gotten from the Elite Guard ship in order to get a copy of these coordinates.

"This better be worth it," Swindle murmured to herself. Although somehow he had a hunch that this would be worth it. However, time would tell.

He punched the coordinates into his little ship and then took off through space. Luckily it wouldn't take too long to get there, since his destination was out in the middle of nowhere and he was already out in the middle of nowhere, so to speak.

Within the next couple of mega-cycles or so, he would find out if this was all simply a waste of time and resources, or not.

0o0o0o0o0o0

When Elita came to, she realized that she was lying flat on her back and staring up at the ceiling. It took her a moment to remember where she was and what had happened.

Very carefully, she pushed herself up just enough to look around. She was then surprised to find that she was still in the same room as Sentinel, simply on a different berth, right beside his.

He was deep in recharge, sleeping peacefully. He looked peaceful, plus she could feel it in her spark that he felt more peaceful and content than he had for some time.

Perhaps it had to do with the things she'd told him. And they were fully bonded now, and they had a daughter on the way. Somehow… that gave them both a sense of hope. They could really identify with each other, but now they could both work on changing. And maybe… their daughter would turn out better than they had.

"Airazor," Elita whispered out loud. "Her name will be Airazor."

With that, she allowed herself to lay back and drift back into sleep. Somehow… she knew that everything was going to be okay.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Starscream didn't even need to look at their whereabouts on the navigational screen to know that they were almost at their destination; he could feel the presence of his clones through his link with them. They were getting closer to Omega Supreme. But he also knew that the bot who was piloting was taking things slow and easy, because they did not want to be discovered. They were using one of the asteroids as a cover, following it as it drifted in the general direction of Omega, knowing it would block them from sensors.

"So," Starscream asked, glancing around the bridge at all of the Autobots. Every single one of them was present. "What exactly is the plan, once we get there?"

Brawn stepped forward, explaining, "We plan to power down some of the ships systems and put up a scrambler in order to hide any energy signature. Then we sneak close enough to Omega Supreme in order to find an opening. You, me, Blurr, and Ironhide will get in and find the Magnus and possibly try to gain control of Supreme."

Behind the short and sturdy mech, the blue Intel officer stiffened. He knew too well the whole operation was for Optimus, built he was determined to get Shockwave.

"How soon until we get there?" Starscream asked.

"Not long," Brawn answered. "We're preparing to begin powering down… now." He nodded, and Chromia began to power down the systems at one of the consoles.

"Alright, prepare to move us away from the asteroid," Rodimus ordered, once he made certain that they were as shut down as they could get. "Take us in… carefully."

Warily, Red Alert took the controls and began to head towards the Decepticons presumed location. Since she and Chromia were staying behind, they were in charge of the ship's systems until the rest got back.

The medic smoothly glided the ship inch by inch to a large asteroid. As they drew nearer Starscream could feel the bond with his clones strengthening. Fearing one would sense it too he put up firewalls to block it. However, the Seeker kept a sliver of his link open for Skywarp. He figured a "surprise visit" would scare that scaredy bot a bit too much.

It took several cycles of careful piloting, until finally the giant ship of Omega Supreme came into view. Starscream felt himself awed by the sight of it, especially since he remembered when he'd been hooked directly into it. He had felt Omega's power directly; he knew what the giant Autobot was capable of.

Finally, Red Alert maneuvered the shuttle close to the giant vessel, docking with one of the ports. Once they were in place, Rodimus glanced over at Chromia, who nodded slightly. "I will be able to initiate the self-destruct sequence when we get aboard… we'll have exactly one hour to get the Magnus and get out of there," she said.

Rodimus nodded. In some ways he did not like this at all, but they simply had no choice. "Alright, lets get going," the Prime murmured.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Swindle arrived at his destination, only to find what looked like a dead planetoid. He frowned, then checked and rechecked the coordinates he'd been given. If these navigational directions were accurate, then he should have been right on top of whatever it was he was supposed to find.

"What is this?" he said out loud, outraged. "I came all the way out here just to find a dead planet in the middle of nowhere? I thought I was supposed to find a huge, abandoned robotic structure out here that I could salvage!"

He decided that he would do a more thorough scan of the area, just in case. Maybe the coordinates were slightly off, and he was just in the wrong area. It also seemed a small shame to just come all this way and just turn around and go back because he thought there wasn't anything there. It was worth a more thorough search, at least.

Suddenly, as his ship's scanners began to scan the planet's surface more thoroughly, he thought he saw it move. He then peered out the window, more curious than anything else. Was there some sort of planet quake going on or something, on the surface? It seemed like part of it was breaking apart…

No… it seemed like part of it was splitting open. Almost as if it was… designed that way…

Swindle gasped when he realized that the stone that moved was revealing a large, gaping doorway. Within the door there was a tunnel, and in the depths of the tunnel there was a brightness almost like that of a sun.

He then found himself being pulled inward, as if grabbed by some sort of tractor beam. He forced himself to snap out of his shock and he tried to pull the shuttle away to safety, kicking the thrusters in to full. But no matter how much he tried, the planet—or whatever it was—maintained a firm hold on him.

It didn't take him long to realize that he was going to die. Whatever this thing was… it was going to eat him. It was like a mechanical thing disguised as a planet, and it had… horns, like a servant of the Pit.

The ship got pulled into the mouth of the tunnel, and once he was pulled inside, he saw the doors closing even as he got pulled closer and closer toward the fire. Swindle yelped as the fires began to burn his ship, turning it into molten metal. He knew that it wouldn't be long until he was simply part of a pile of molten metal, ready to be digested by this… thing.

He stared into the heart of the fire. He didn't want to die! But he knew that he was going to…

All he could do was scream as the highest volume of his vocalizer as the flames engulfed him, along with the rest of his little ship.

0o0o0o0o0o

Blurr wasn't an Intel officer for nothing. He knew everything about anybody and anything. And if he didn't know something, he learned fast. Shockwave was his latest lesson.

Once the Autobot party had gotten aboard, they'd chosen to split up in order to cover more areas more quickly throughout the ship, in their search for Optimus Magnus. Chromia also needed to find the nearest access port in order to initiate the self-destruct sequence, while Red Alert—who accompanied Rodimus—was prepared to treat any injuries the Magnus might have when they found him. She carried her medical kit close to her, hoping that she and Rodimus would find him first, in case she needed to tend to him in any way.

Blurr, on the other hand, had a personal score to settle. Normally he wasn't the sort to go for revenge—he usually just did his job, and nothing more. But since he had almost been killed by one bot in particular… he just couldn't let that go without some sort of repayment.

The blue Intel bot raced down the corridors, moving through the ship far more quickly than any of the other bots could. He used a small homing device to locate Shockwave's energy signature—one that he knew all-too-well, and he was bound and determined to find him first before encountering anyone else.

Fortunately enough the halls he walked through were mostly empty. As he went on even further and heard a voice. A familiar one. Blurr snuck up to the door and strained to hear whoever it was on the other side.

"...my Lord, it should reach Cybertronian feeds in a few megacycles," droned on Shockwave. Blurr could make out another voice, but it was quieter. From what it sounded like, the traitor was speaking to someone over a link.

Good.

Waiting till the conversation was done, Blurr busted through the door with a godly fervor and roar.

\" !\"

Shock, having just barely terminated the communication link with Megatron, spun around on the heels of his feet. For a moment he couldn't believe his optical sensors, or his audio receptors for that matter. Blurr? Blurr, the very bot he had personally seen crushed and disposed of, was here?

"How in the name of the Pit could you possibly have survived?" Shockwave demanded, looking the blue bot up and down, too shocked at the moment to move much.

"'schosentoworkwiththeAutobots.I'!"

Once Blurr was finished speaking, it took Shockwave nearly half a cycle to work out just what he had said. And by that time, he'd gotten over the worst of his shock at seeing Blurr alive again.

"I crushed you once, and I will do so again!" the former double-agent said, raising his weapon and preparing to fire.

Instead of a snappy comeback, Blurr retaliated by ramming into the Decepticon's midsection and giving him a swift kick in the shin. These blows were given swiftly and powerfully.

Shockwave yelped and staggered backward. His weapon did go off, but it went harmlessly over Blurr's head, seeing as he was knocked off-balance. Growling, Shockwave attempted to grab at the Autobot, but Blurr was too quick for him.

Within moments, Blurr managed to use his slick, swift moves to knock Shockwave down on his aft, snap a pair of stasis cuffs on him, and take away his weapon.

Now, having gained the upper hand, Blurr aimed Shockwave's own weapon at his head, right above the single, red eye on his Decepticon face.

"So, it seems you've managed to… subdue me," Shockwave said, unable to move. "What are you waiting for, then?"

0o0o0o0o0o0

Chromia made her way toward the nearest access terminal that could be used to tap into Omega's main processor. She had a layout of Omega's interior uploaded into her memory, just like everyone else on the team had before they all left Cybertron for this mission.

She crawled through several vent shafts in an attempt to move toward her destination without detection. It worked pretty well, and she managed to get right where she needed to go. She crawled out of the shaft, looked both ways, then dashed over toward the nearby access terminal.

It took some doing, but she managed to get through the Decepticon control just enough to access one key failsafe protocol that Perceptor himself had put in place in the event of a Decepticon take-over. Then, taking great care to make sure she entered it correctly, she keyed in the code to enable and initiate Omega's self-destruct sequence, knowing it would go off in exactly one hour.

"Sorry, big guy," she said, giving the console a thoughtful pat before she hit the final key. She just hoped that Ratchet wouldn't take the news too hard once he learned of this, although she knew that the old bot had plenty of other things to tend to right now.

Then, once she received a silent confirmation that the sequence had been enabled, she crawled back into the vent shaft. "Okay," she murmured quietly under her breath, "Just… hurry up and find the Magnus, guys."

0o0o0o0o0

For a long moment, Blurr simply stood there, his optics narrowed and his mouth set in a small frown. His servo held steady as he kept the energy weapon aimed at Shockwave's head, but he made no other move.

"Well?" Shockwave said, never blinking or looking away. "What are you waiting for? Can't make up your mind?"

After a moment, Blurr lowered the weapon. He then moved closer and put a mouth clamp over Shockwave's mouth, with a bit more force than necessary. "Idonotneedtokillyou." Then, as if to add insult to the fact that Shockwave was immobile and unable to do a thing, the blue bot threw down the weapon, mere inches away from his enemy's feet. "'talready."

With that, Blurr was gone… leaving Shockwave the wonder what the frag he'd meant by that.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Starscream acknowledged his commlink when it went off, hearing that Chromia had fulfilled her mission objective, and Rodimus and Red Alert had found the Magnus.

"Did you… have any trouble?" Starscream asked aloud over his commlink.

"The only guard here was that egotistical clone of yours," came Rodimus's reply. "And he seemed like more bark than bite. We'll head back to the rendezvous point once Red Alert is sure that his condition is stable."

"Very well." With that, Starscream terminated the link. He just needed to find Skywarp now… since he did have a promise to keep. Although in some ways, it didn't hurt his feelings too much if they couldn't find him.

In some ways though… all of this just seemed far too easy. Just where was everyone?

A moment later, a call from Blurr answered that very question, as the Intel bot informed everyone in unison:

"'!"

Well, that was the best piece of news Starscream had heard all day in some ways. Although he still felt a pressing need to hurry, because there was no telling if the Decepticons would be able to bypass the lockdown—and if so, how soon they'd be able to do it.

Starscream concentrated, trying to focus on the link he shared with Skywarp. "Where are you, you slagging coward?" he asked through their bond.

Skywarp was once again stirred from a light stasis. For the second time the mech felt Starscream reaching out to him, and he got shaken up again. Skywarp was waiting for the original to find him but was still a bit scared anyway.

Through the link he sent Starscream the location of the room he was hiding in, whimpering a bit. Skywarp knew Starscream made a promise...but would he break it like the other clones?

Starscream grumbled slightly under his breath, sensing what the clone was thinking and feeling. "I'm coming, I'm coming," he said, doing an about-face and heading down a different corridor. Thankfully the room wasn't too far away.

It wasn't long before he arrived at the proper room, but found it empty. He scowled as his optics scanned the room. He sensed that Skywarp was here, but he didn't see him. So where was he?

Just then he noticed something… the enormous storage locked in the room. Was Skywarp in there? Starscream walked over and banged on the door. "Are you in there?" However… the door was quite stuck.

"St-Starscream?" piped Skywarp. He nudged the door open a tad and peeked through the crack with one of his optics. When he saw that it was indeed the magenta seeker Skywarp jumped out and held to him tightly.

"Oh Starscream, it was so dark and cramped and Slipstream was so mean and...OH PRIMUS!" The poor mech was reminded why he went hiding in the first place. This only make him hug his savior even tighter. Skywarp was still frightened by him, but right now he was the only one he trusted.

"Oh for spark's sake," Starscream growled. "Let's just GO! We don't have much time!"


	39. Chapter 39

Ironhide was the last one to enter the shuttle, after everyone else had gotten out of Omega Supreme. He had intentionally lingered behind, because he wanted to make sure everyone else back onboard—especially that former Decepticon—before he got aboard.

Now that everyone was securely aboard, Chromia herself took over the helm controls and began to navigate the small ship away from the enormous vessel. They had cut it close; there were only about five cycles left until the self-destruct sequence was completed.

Starscream was currently trying to stop Skywarp from clinging to him so much, Red Alert was tending to Optimus Magnus's wounds and carefully helping him drink some energon to replenish his strength. Chromia was still quite busy piloting, and all of the others were keeping their optics glued on the sensors. They had to be a safe distance away from Omega before he blew.

"How are you feeling?" Red Alert asked. Everyone was on the bridge, and she had set up an area on the floor, out of everyone's way, so that she could tend to him and keep up with whatever else was going on at the same time.

Optimus heard Red Alert, but was still very groggy in the processor. All he knew was that she was there and talking...to him? He couldn't tell. He wasn't even sure of where he was. The Magnus worried that Megatron would find his medic, and started to mutter the tyrants name. He would NOT let him hurt any of his bots!

Red Alert frowned slightly. Optimus almost seemed to be babbling a little, and she figured that he must still be dazed. "It's alright, Magnus, Sir," she said gently but firmly. "Just keep still and try to relax. You'll be home soon."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Slipstream already knew that something was wrong. It started when she noticed that several doors were sealed, and she couldn't really get anywhere. Then she'd found Shockwave in stasis cuffs and with a mouth clamp on. Once she freed him of the restraining devices, he told her that a blue Intel Autobot had been aboard, and that there were probably others.

That was when Slipstream, acting as Megatron's second in command, decided to take action. She called to the other Decepticons, trying to rally them together. However, it seemed that they were trapped in different areas of the ship, due to the sealed doors.

It seemed that that stupid blue Autobot had sealed specific doors in specific places intentionally, trying to separate them all.

Growling under her breath, Slipstream then tried to access one of the control terminals, attempting to find a way to override the lockdown. And that was when she found out about the auto-destruct sequence…

"SCREW THOSE AUTOBOTS!" she bellowed, slamming her fist against the console. Not only had the sequence been enabled, it was about to go off in less than two cycles!

With that, she took off for the nearest airlock. Once she arrived there and got it up, she tossed a glance over her shoulder. "Sorry, Megatron," she muttered. "But it was fun while it lasted." She smirked, then headed into the airlock. She transformed into a jet mode and burned her thrusters as hot as she could, intending to escape the impending doom even if she had to burn off most of her energon to do it.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

All of the Autobots in the shuttle had to literally grab onto their seats—or whatever they could grab onto if they were standing—to keep from being thrown across the room. Outside, Omega Supreme had lit up like a supernova, exploding and sending a huge shockwave that rattled the shuttle.

Red Alert ended up falling on top of Optimus Magnus, and the both slid across the floor until they bumped into the wall. "Pardon me, sir," she murmured sheepishly as she pushed herself up.

The others had better luck but were quite unkempt. Starscream was actually clinging to Skywarp, sharing his cowardly side that he gave his brother. However he recovered more quickly and pushed him off. Blurr had held onto the sides of his chair, which had swiveled around from the impact. Ironhide and Chromia were together on her seat and Brawn was flat face on the floor.

"Is everyone ok?" Red Alert called out.

There were several acknowledgements, all assuring her that they were quite fine.

"Well," Rodimus said, letting go of the armrests of his chair. He was amazed he hadn't been thrown out of it. "I think we've definitely been through the worst of it. Scan the area for any sign of survivors."

Once Chromia completed the scan she reported, "Looks like there's nothing out there but plain old wreckage. Although I am detecting one Decepticon survivor, I think…"

"Is it Megatron?" Starscream was the first to ask. Oh, it would be just his dang luck if that slagger had somehow managed to survive.

"No, it seems to be one of your clones," Chromia replied.

"Ah," Starscream said dismissively. "All is well, then." He grinned. Even though he was with the Autobots now, well, at least he had played a big part in the defeat and destruction of Megatron, along with his loyal minions.

"Then… let it go," Rodimus said with a shrug. "Let's just get back to Cybertron."

"Course already laid in," Chromia told him.

Smiling, Rodimus gestured toward the forward-most window. "Engage!" he commanded with relief.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Unicron sniffed the black, empty vastness of space with his sensors. Having a powerful sensor array with very long range, he could detect what seemed to be an intense explosion, some distance away. Though not too far away.

Having relished his snack, which was little more than a morsel or two, he decided to investigate the source of the explosion. Perhaps it would be something interesting, something useful to him.

So, with some effort, he proceeded to fire up his thrusters and move himself through space, headed directly toward the disturbance he'd detected.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

Once Jazz had arrived to pick up Dreamer, Prowl stuck around only long enough to help secure the young femme to a rack that Jazz had temporarily installed on his room just for this specific task. Once Dreamer was securely in place, Prowl transformed and drove off, toward who-knew-where.

Dreamer felt a bit nervous, but overall she enjoyed riding on top of Jazz as he took her home. On the way back, Jazz also called ahead to let Ratchet know that they were coming, much to the old doc-bot's relief. It seemed that Ratchet had awoken not too long ago, and both he and Arcee had found Dreamer missing. They were just beginning to worry when Jazz's call soothed their fears.

"Try not to be too hard on the lil' femme when we get there," Jazz requested in a gentle tone. "She's been through a lot tonight."

"What do you mean?" Ratchet asked over the commlink. "What happened?"

In simple terms—which sometimes meant confusing terms, when it came to Jazz's speech—the white-mech ninja briefly explained what had happened. Ratchet muttered a curse under his breath, but simply said to get her back home as soon as possible—and as safely as possible.

Once Jazz arrived, both Ratchet and Arcee had to assist with getting Dreamer unattached from his roof racks. Once that was accomplished, Jazz wished them well and drove off into the night.

When they were back inside, Ratchet took a few moments to look over Dreamer and assess the damage. "Hmm, not too bad," he murmured as he finished looking her over. "You will need a new front tire, but we can get you one tomorrow. In the meantime I suggest you transform into robot mode so you won't have to abuse your damaged tire anymore."

"I can't!" Dreamer exclaimed. "I can't transform!"

Ratchet sighed. "Dreamer, you've been able to do it. You need to buckle down and just do it. Since you're able to do it, I think the knowledge is in there somewhere." He cocked his head to one side as he looked at her. "What exactly is the problem, anyway?"

"Go easy on her, Ratchet," Arcee said. Just then, Skidraider began to wail in the other room. Arcee cast another glance toward Dreamer and Ratchet, then went to tend to the sparkling.

"Dreamer," Ratchet said, firmly enough to get the femme's attention but quietly enough so that Arcee wouldn't hear, "you can't go through life complaining that you can't do something, when you can do it. I don't know what your problem is, but I want you to get over it and transform!"

Dreamer seemed to pout somewhat, not liking being lectured in the least. "It's not that easy!" she snipped in defiance.

"What makes it so hard?" Ratchet wanted to know. "You make it sound like I'm asking you to go into a trash compactor or something. All I'm doing is asking you to transform, something you've already done."

"It's easy for you cuz you're so old you've done it a million times already."

"Watch your mouth," Ratchet growled at her, not liking her choice of words or her attitude. "Look, the way it seems to me, you're just making this difficult on yourself. Why? I would like an answer, young fem-bot."

"I guess… I'm scared."

"Scared of what?" Ratchet's voice had taken on a slightly gentler tone now, but still sounded gruff and somewhat impatient.

"I don't know how to explain it."

Ratchet narrowed his optics. "Well, try," he told her. "Because whatever it is, we're gonna have to deal with it. You can't keep getting stuck in a single mode and then complaining about how you can't transform when I know you can!"

"It's just… it…"

"It's what?"

"It's scary to transform! It's like having two different bodies at once."

"Oh," Ratchet said, and understanding began to dawn on him. He'd heard of this sort of thing before. Sometimes it happened with younglings who were just learning to transform. They'd gotten so used to being in robot mode that suddenly having a new vehicle mode could be disconcerting and frightening, so that they tried to stay in either one mode or the other, as a form of security because the constant changing frightened them. And since Dreamer had already had plenty of mental and emotional problems… well, this wasn't exactly surprising. Ratchet kicked himself mentally for not realizing this himself.

Then again, sometimes you did need to wait until the person told you their problem before you could do much about it. "Dreamer, why didn't you tell me this before?" he asked.

"I don't know… maybe it's because you and Arcee don't have a problem transforming back and fourth."

"Well, it's okay," Ratchet said. "And listen," he said, his tone getting softer and gentler, "you don't have to worry about anything. Transforming from robot mode to vehicle mode is perfectly safe. Nothing bad is going to happen to you." He chuckled, pointing a finger at himself. "Look at how old I am. I've been transforming for millions of years. I'm perfectly fine."

"So… nothing bad ever happens?" Dreamer asked, sound somewhat unsure.

"Nothing. But just so you know, your fears aren't unique. Other bots have felt the same way you do."

"Really?"

"Really."

A moment of silence passed between them both. Then, quite suddenly, Dreamer transformed out of her bike mode into her robot mode, with very little problem or hesitation at all.

"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Ratchet asked with a grin.

Dreamer found herself grinning back. "No… it wasn't," she said.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Slipstream had been caught up a bit in the explosion when Omega Supreme's self-destruct mechanism went off. She had been very shaken up and her entire exo-structure and armor was cracked and damaged, but she was still online and still able to fly.

Now that the immediate danger was past, and she wasn't offline… she had to think about what she wanted to do. But of course, out here in this remote area of space, she didn't exactly have a whole lot of options.

Plus there was the fact that, even though it was probably safe to assume that there wasn't much left of her Decepticon comrades except debris, along with the remains of Omega Supreme… she still wasn't alone. There was something that she had not told Megatron, and frankly she had no regrets about that fact at all.

When she and Megatron had… interfaced in her quarters, they had developed a partial bond, during which she had sparked. There was now a sparkling developing within her own spark… and well, just so long as it did not hinder her in any way, she honestly didn't care if it was there or not.

Though she knew that she would need repairs, and energon… soon.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Prowl did not glance up from what he was doing as Jazz approached, although he did sense someone was coming. The black-mech ninja was busy watching Grimlock, Swoop and Snarl as they roamed freely about within a fenced in area.

It seemed that the Dinobots had shown they could behave themselves—though perhaps it was because they were getting sick and tired of being locked up. They were free spirits, so to speak. So they had been given a large, fenced in area, and Swoop's wings had been slightly modified so that he could only do limited flights anymore, to help make certain he would not cause any trouble.

Everyone was warned to stay away, as to not aggravate or disturb the Dinobots; so long as they were left in peace, they were fine. Although they didn't mind occasional visits from Prowl.

"You doin' alright?" Jazz asked as he quietly walked up behind the other ninja.

Prowl didn't turn to look at him, he simply kept staring off at the Dinobots. "Yes, I just wanted a little time to clear my processor."

"Quite a lot has happened with you," Jazz commented, moving to stand just beside his fellow ninja. "Let's see… I guess you found out something about where you came from, you've gone offline and come back to life, and then you get sucked into an embarrassing scene with the very femme who started it all." He chuckled softly in spite if himself.

"Indeed."

Jazz turned more serious. "Anything else on your mind, Prowl?"

Now the black-mech ninja turned to look at him. "I keep thinking about something she told me, before that… incident happened," Prowl said. "Nightbird apparently approached Dreamer during the Decepticon attack on Iacon, and made her promise to try becoming a ninja again."

"Oh really?"

"Really." Prowl resumed staring out at the roaming Dinobots. They seemed to be engaged in some sort of conversation, although they were speaking in low tones accompanied with a lot of grunts. He couldn't quite make out what they were saying.

"So is that what's on your processor?"

"Somewhat."

"Want to talk about it?"

Prowl frowned. "I don't think I can train her, Jazz. Especially after what happened. I don't even know if she really wants to become a cyber ninja, and… she is far too undisciplined and emotionally unstable—not to mention immature—for that sort of thing right now."

"Well I can't exactly say that either of us were prime representatives of Cybertronian civilization when we first started out under Yoketron," Jazz chuckled.

One corner of Prowl's mouth curled upward somewhat. "At least you had chosen to train under Yoketron, right?"

"Eh, more or less."

"What do you mean?" Prowl raised an optical ridge at his friend.

"Well, Yoketron apparently saw something in me, or whatever." Jazz shrugged. "I wasn't too sure about it all at first, it seemed kind of weird to me. But I figured I'd give it a shot, because there wasn't much else going for me at that point."

"Indeed. If I hadn't been in stasis cuffs, you could have probably said that I got dragged in to Yoketron, kicking and screaming."

Jazz grinned. "I remember seeing you back then, a few times. Feisty and arrogant."

"I think you caught me once when I tried to run away, didn't you?"

"Yeah, Yoketron asked me to go get you."

"Even though he had come to get me himself every other time." Prowl cocked his head to one side. "I wonder why he sent you that time."

"Because he was hoping that if someone closer to your age went after you, maybe he might be able to get through to you a little better," Jazz said. "I think it worked, at least a bit… didn't it?"

Prowl nodded. Indeed, Jazz's positive outlook on life in general had somehow helped Prowl to view things in a better light… and to stop being so selfish.

"Jazz… if she ever chooses to follow the path of a cyber ninja someday… will you train her?" the black-mech ninja finally asked.

Jazz was slightly taken aback, but all things considered it did seem like a reasonable request. "Sure," he told his friend with a firm nod. "It would be no problemo. It would be an honor."

For the next hour or so, they both proceeded to watch the Dinobots in silence.


	40. Chapter 40

When Unicron arrived at the area where the explosion had originated, he found only scattered debris. He scanned the debris more carefully, and found that it was the remains of robots.

After a few moments of thought, Unicron decided that maybe, just maybe, these scattered remains could be useful.

Slowly Unicron approached these robotic remains. As he got closer, he saw that they were badly damaged and certainly offline. There was a few that seemed to be similar in appearance and all were missing either an arm or a leg. Or both. He then spotted a cycloptic mech whose entire lower body was blasted off and optic cracked. Other bots were in a similar condition.

However, one did catch the giant transformer's attention. He was a silver and red mech with predominant features. Despite the massive damage done to his faceplate and armor, Unicron knew exactly who it was.

Megatron.

Unicron could have smirked. He had a part in swaying this Decepticon's spark to bring war to Primus's creation. Oh, he had a plan, one that even his brother wouldn't even predict happening.

With great care, Unicron began to enhance the magnetic field around his body in order to draw the robotic parts nearer to him. He would use his own energy to rebuild them into his own personal army…

His own personal slaves.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Hardly anyone got to see Optimus Magnus when he was first brought back to Cybertron, because Red Alert insisted on getting him straight to the Iacon hospital. They met Wheeljack and Ratchet there, who had been summoned to assist.

Ratchet, having pushed the hectic and some of the rather awkward moments of the other day out of his processor, went straight into his doc-bot mode to assist his friend. The medics worked to repair the circuitry damage, replace some of the components that acid had all but ruined, and gave him a new torso plate.

When they were finished he looked as good as new, minus the wings. Although Ratchet felt that he could probably do without the wings for a while anyway, and just get some rest.

Optimus groaned and mumbled a bit but quieted down again. He was more active now, even in a state of stasis. However, the Magnus looked...disturbed. Like he was anxious about something. As Ratchet watched, he hoped that whatever happened, Optimus would live through it. Hopefully.

"I'll stay with him for a while," Ratchet told Wheeljack and Red Alert. There was nothing more that the other two medics could do, so Ratchet saw no reason for them to hang around.

Red Alert nodded. "Call us if you need us for anything," she said, and then she and Wheeljack headed out.

Ratchet pulled up a chair beside Optimus's berth and sat down, sighing warily. "You'll pull through, kid," he muttered. Then he chuckled slightly. Only he would call the current Magnus "kid", and only in the privacy of an empty hospital room. He wasn't even sure if Optimus heard him anyway.

A soft throat-clearing sound caused Ratchet's head to look away from the Magnus and toward the door. He saw a small shadow spilling into the doorway, which was then engulfed by an even bigger shadow as clanking metallic footsteps came nearer.

"Alright, who's out there?" Ratchet asked, although he felt he could probably guess. There was only one person around who the smaller shadow would fit, and she was usually accompanied by her boyfriend these days.

"Uh, it's only us Ratchet," Sari replied. Behind her Bumblebee waved meekly with a sheepish grin on his faceplate.

"Mind if we come in to see the big guy?"

Ratchet glanced at Optimus, then looked back at the pair. "He's not in any condition to see anyone right now," he told them. "We've done all we can for him, and he looks good as new, but he needs rest for a while. You can see him when he wakes up." Ratchet did not add the words, "If he wakes up" but somehow, they seemed to hang in the air even though they remained unsaid.

Sari and Bumblebee exchanged glances. "Well uh… can we just wait out here?" Sari asked.

Ratchet shrugged. "It's your time, if you want to wait. But you might be here for a while if you do."

With that, Bee and Sari walked away from the room and headed toward the nearest waiting bench, sitting down on it. That is, Bee easily sat down on it, but Sari had to hop up onto it, since it wasn't made for someone as small as she was. She ended up sitting on the very edge with her legs dangling down.

"So… are you okay?" Bumblebee finally asked, after a few seconds. He was the bot who could never stay silent for long, although Sari did have to admit that he had become a better listener in some ways. Especially ever since their relationship had become official.

"I'm okay," Sari told him. She was staring down at her dangling shoes, her hands folded neatly in her lap. "I just really miss my dad. I didn't even get to see him one last time or anything."

Bumblebee reached down and gently picked her up, putting her on his lap. "Tell ya what," he said to her. "After things settle down a bit around here… we'll go Earth and visit his ground site, okay?"

"I think you mean the graveyard," Sari said, sniffling a little. She then rested her head against his lower torso, allowing her eyelids to close. "I'd like that."

Bee smiled and put his hand around her, hugging her gently.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Slipstream was exhausted. Actually, that was putting it mildly. She felt like she was about ready to pass out.

She moved through space at top speed, using up a lot of her energon reserves as she did so. But she felt that she had made some progress… although she had no idea where she was going or where she might end up. She was just glad to have put some distance between herself and the area where Omega Supreme had blown up.

As if that really meant anything right now… she was still stuck out in the middle of nowhere, with no ship, nowhere to go, and no way to replenish her dwindling energy reserves.

Feeling she was about ready to collapse into a deep stasis, Slipstream landed on some random asteroid and transformed, laying on her back. She could feel the tiny life inside her pulse eagerly and demandingly as she rested a servo over her chamber. The thing wanted more love and energy, and was not liking to be ignored.

Slipstream grumbled out loud. "Not like I'm happy about the circumstances either, kid," she growled. "I'd rather be on a ship with a tall glass of energon right now, but instead, I'm out here in the middle of nowhere!"

Just then the corner of her optical sensor caught some movement off to her left. She turned and saw what looked like a ship going by… and one that looked familiar at that. Where had she seen it before?

Oh yes, on Earth… he had come to Earth once, and she'd barely managed to avoid getting caught by the bot who owned it. She'd had to go into hiding—in that stupid lake, no less—until she was sure he was gone. It was Lockdown, the bounty hunter… and he just might be her savior right now.

Not that she liked that fact… but she didn't really have a choice, did she?

Reluctantly but noticeably, Slipstream got up with the little energy she had left and shouted for Lockdown's attention. She even managed to fire harmless laser shots in front of the ship. In her spark chamber, Slipstream could feel the sparklings excitement at the sudden actions his mother was doing.

If this didn't work, Slipstream would waste a lot of precious energy.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Inside his ship, Lockdown took notice of something that showed up on the ship's scanners. He took a closer look and realized that it had the same energy signature as one of Starscream's clones… the one that had eluded him on Earth by hiding in the water of all places.

She seemed to be shouting at him, using a frequency that did more than confirm it was Starscream's fem-bot clone. She was also firing lasers in the direction of his ship, but he could tell that it wasn't an attack, she was just trying to get his attention.

"You've got my attention alright, femme," Lockdown muttered to himself, then opened up his commlink. "Yeah, I see you out there. What do you want?"

"I need energon, and a lift. Think you can manage that?"

Lockdown raised an optical ridge at the reply he'd received. She was trying to sound tough, but he could judge by the fact that she sounded drained, and the simple fact that she was asking for energon, that she was probably about ready to drop out there. "I can manage it," he replied quickly. "But what's in it for me? That's what I'd like to know."

0o0o0o0o0o

Slipstream was stuck on that. Really there was nothing she could give him. All she had was a growing Cybertronian.

Then again, she was once Megatron's second in command. Maybe she could help Lockdown too...

"Are you...in need of an assistant?"

She waited quietly for a reply. She figured he was probably thinking it over, although she hoped that he would answer quickly. It wasn't like she was getting any younger out here, and her energy reserves were continuing to dwindle.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Inside his ship, Lockdown was indeed thinking it over. He knew that this was one of the Starscream clones, and all of them definitely had access to some important, high-security Decepticon codes that might possibly be useful. He could either use them for his own purposes, or he could sell them to anyone who wanted to pay enough for them.

"No I don't really need an assistant," he finally told her through the commlink. "But if you've got some top secret Decepticon codes you'd like to share, I can give you some energon and a lift to a nearby mining planet. I'm sure they can get you wherever you need to go from there."

He detected a brief hesitation on the other end, but he knew she didn't have much choice. Surely she would agree.

"Deal," she finally replied.

"Then come on aboard," Lockdown told her, tapping the control that would open the hatch.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

When Elita awoke from recharge again, it took her a moment to remember where she was. Then she recalled everything that had happened. She glanced over at Sentinel, who was still lying on the berth right next to hers. Wasn't he awake yet? Although after all the mental trauma he'd been through, she supposed that she couldn't blame him for sleeping in.

"Yet I'm carrying a sparkling and I'm awake," she muttered under her breath, stroking her spark chamber thoughtfully. "Mechs; they always think they're tough, but in some ways they're less durable."

"I… heard… that."

Elita turned to look at Sentinel. Her audios had picked up on his words, although they were faint and raspy. "So you're awake," she said, rolling over onto her side and looking at him.

Turning his head slightly Sentinel looked over at his bondmate. He still couldn't believe it. During his stellar cycles in the Academy, the mech absolutely adored her...yet he still felt it wasn't fair she was forced into the bond.

"Yeah...I'm awake. So, how's the sparkling?"

"Fine," she answered, then realized she had placed a hand over her spark chamber subconsciously. It seemed to be a habit she'd developed, somehow or other, whenever she was thinking about the sparkling or even just talking about her.

Sentinel nodded slightly. Then he seemed to notice something… different. He self-consciously reached up and touched his chin with his fingertips. "My chin feels… smaller," he said.

"It suits you," Elita said.

He looked at her. "You really think so?" He didn't know what to think of it yet, since he had yet to see his reflection.

"Trust me, you look much better," Elita said, placing a servo on his face.

She had moved so that she was now leaning over him, stroking his features. Then she hesitated, remembering that this was the bot who'd assaulted her… but then she reminded herself that that had been Nemesis Prime, not Sentinel. Plus the bot who'd attacked her looked nothing like this… he looked exactly like Optimus.

Optimus… was she ever going to be able to look at him the same way again, despite the fact that she knew he didn't do it? She wasn't sure. That was a question that could only be answered when, and if, she did see him again.

Forget the past, she told herself. It was time to focus on the present, the daughter that was growing inside her spark, and the new and improved Sentinel.

Then she found herself saying it aloud. "You… are the new and improved Sentinel now." She carefully lowered her legs onto the floor and then crawled on top of him, laying her body flat against his and intertwining her legs with his. "And I like it."

A gentle throat-clearing sound caused both Sentinel and Elita to start. Both turned to see none other than Wheeljack standing in the doorway, somehow managing to look at him them without looking like he was looking at them. "I just… came to check on you both."

With that, Elita fell off of Sentinel, and off the berth, onto the floor.


	41. Chapter 41

Bright, white light. That was the first thing Optimus Magnus became aware of once he regained full consciousness. His optical sensors flickered on and off once, then twice, then a third time before they stabilized.

He glanced around, attempting to sit up. After a moment he realized that he was in a room of some sort… yes, it was a hospital room. Did this mean he was back on Cybertron? It must be.

"So, you're awake," said a familiar, craggy voice.

Optimus turned toward the voice, seeing none other than Ratchet walking toward his berth. "Ratchet," the Magnus greeted, "am I—"

The old medibot nodded, answering before Optimus could even finish his sentence. "Yeah, you're back on Cybertron. And I have some good news and some bad news for you."

"Give me the bad news first."

Ratchet raised an optical ridge. "Just after coming back online, you're asking for the bad news first?"

"As they say on Earth, I'd rather not beat around the bush, Ratchet. And I feel fine."

"That's good, and that's also the good news, Magnus. You're going to be fine, and you're in tip-top shape right now. But the bad news…" Ratchet sighed, shaking his head warily. "The Magnus hammer was left behind on Omega Supreme…" the old bot's optics narrowed, "and Omega has been destroyed."

Optimus did a double-take, wondering if his audio sensors had heard that right. "Destroyed? But how?"

"The team that got aboard and rescued you set his self-destruct mechanism," Ratchet stated, then pressed his lip components into a thin line. "Whoever gave that order," he growled, clenching his servos at his sides, "whoever's bright idea that was… I'm going to personally kick their cans. Or find an excuse to order them in here and give them a thorough physical… as slowly and painfully as possible."

Ratchet sighed, placing a servo against his helm. "I'm sorry. I don't really mean that."

Optimus shifted and set his feet on the floor, leaning forward to place a servo on the older bot's shoulder. "I know," the Magnus said. "I also know how you felt about Omega. But… there was no choice. I mean, if the Decepticons had him…" Optimus trailed off, frowning.

"That's what they always say," Ratchet grumbled.

Optimus really was not sure on what to say that would comfort the old medic. He saw the strong friendship between the two, and how Ratchet had tried to help Omega in any way he can. And all his efforts went away with that destruction.

However a knock at the door brought the two away from their discussion.

"Ratchet dear," Arcee said, poking her head into the medbay, "I believe the Magnus has a good few visitors." She fully opened the door and behind her was Dreamer holding Skidraider, Sari, Bumblebee, Bulkhead, and Prowl.

"So...can we come in now?" Sari asked with an eager grin.

In spite of the grim subject that was just being discussed between Optimus and Ratchet, some of the grimness seemed to fade a little as Ratchet turned to regard the entourage wanting to come in. "Come on in," the doc-bot told them, gesturing at the room with his servo. "As you can see, the Magnus is awake and feeling fine."

Everyone filed neatly into the room, some of the group standing near the end of the berth Optimus was on, while others moved around to the side.

"It's good to see you awake," Arcee told the Magnus cheerfully.

"It's good to be awake," Optimus said. "I've never felt better… although I don't remember much."

"Perhaps its best you don't," Ratchet told him. "Let's just say that when we brought you here, you were pretty badly damaged."

"I remember being tortured… then I must have blacked out."

"Well, it's over now," Sari said with an infectious cheerfulness that made Optimus smile at her.

"It's good to see you all," Optimus said, looking around at everyone.

"And someone wants to meet you!" Bumblebee exclaimed, pointing at the sparkling in Dreamer's arms. Dreamer then took that as her cue, and carefully held out the youngster toward the Magnus, casting her optics down shyly as she did so.

Optimus looked over the red and yellow sparkling, and grinned as the little guy tilted his head with a curious look in his optics. Skidraider then decided he liked this blue and red bot. Whining a little he stretched out his little servos to the mech before him. Before Optimus took him, he turned to the sparkling's father.

"May I?"

Ratchet nodded, and the gesture was echoed by Arcee. Then, with great care, Optimus reached out and gently took the little sparkling into his arms, cradling him gently. The Magnus grinned as the little youngster giggled softly, staring up into his face with wide, curious optics.

"What's his name?" Optimus asked softly.

"Skidraider," Ratchet replied.

"You have an adorable son," the Magnus said, tracing the sparkling's chin with his fingertip, then drawing it back before the kid tried to bite him. "I see his dental plating is beginning to develop," Optimus commented.

"He tried nibbling on Dreamer's servo last night," Arcee commented, glancing toward her daughter with a mixture of slight concern and amusement.

"It didn't hurt… really," Dreamer said simply, although she realized she was subconsciously rubbing her right servo.

"I see," Ratchet said as Dreamer sheepishly put her hands behind her back.

"Well, I'm sure he'll make a fine mech someday," the Magnus added. He saw the resemblance he took from both his parents, and chuckled as Skid tried to grab and nibble his finger. The small sparkling grunted as he attempted to reach it.

"Maybe I should take him back now," Arcee suggested, holding her arms out a little.

"Sure," Optimus said, then gently placed him in his mother's arms. Arcee then gave the sparkling what appeared to be a chew device, and although the tyke seemed somewhat disappointed not to be able to chew on anyone's fingers, he accepted the trinket and began to bite down on it.

"So," Optimus said, glancing around the room at everyone, "have I missed anything else?"

Everyone exchanged glances, and the Magnus got the feeling that he had missed out on quite a lot.

"I get it," Optimus said with a sigh. "It's a long story, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Ratchet said.

"If I were you, I wouldn't go anywhere near Elita for a good long time," Bumblebee commented.

"Uh… why?" Optimus asked, narrowing his optics.

"Perhaps we should fill him in," Prowl suggested quietly, although even he looked a bit uneasy.

Ratchet frowned. "If he's gonna know now, I'd prefer that Prowl and I to tell him in private." He gave Arcee an exasperated look, and she nodded, ushering Dreamer out of the room. Bulkhead, Bumblebee, and Sari followed them out.

When the room was empty again, Ratchet faced Optimus. Prowl was next to him with a blank expression.

Over the next hour or so, Prowl and Ratchet filled him in on pretty much everything that had happened. The techno-organic trial, the… terrible thing that happened to Elita, and the discovery that Nemesis Prime was really Sentinel Prime.

When they were finished, Optimus was silent, looking as though his optics were going to bulge out of his face. He had asked several questions while Prowl and Ratchet were reciting the recent events that occurred during his absence, but now he just sat there in complete silence, stunned and horrified.

Prowl stepped toward Optimus and stood next to his berth. He laid a hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him.

"Optimus..." But the Magnus shrugged him off, still looking a bit disoriented.

"I...just need sometime to myself."

The ninja exchanged glances with the medibot. Optimus wasn't looking at either of them now, and his shoulders were sagging a bit.

"Let's leave him be," Ratchet said quietly to Prowl. The ninja merely nodded, then followed the older bot out of the room.

Once the two Autobots were out in the waiting area, they saw the others waiting there. Arcee was sitting on the bench with Skidraider in her lap and Dreamer seated beside her. Bumblebee was leaning against the wall, apparently talking to Sari about something or other. Everyone glanced up when they saw Ratchet and Prowl approach.

"Eh… how did he take it?" Bumblebee asked, almost timidly.

"Pretty bad," Ratchet answered grimly. "Let's just give him some time. He needs to process everything that happened."

"I guess that means we'll have to go now?" Dreamer asked her parents.

"There doesn't seem much point in staying here," Ratchet acknowledged with a slight shrug. In truth, he didn't want to have his bondmate, daughter, and sparkling have to hang around in the waiting room of a hospital room. "Why don't you all go on. I'll check on Optimus from time to time; I need to stay here until my shift is over anyway."

The others nodded and said there good byes. Arcee and Dreamer both kissed Ratchet on the opposite cheek and Skid got a hug from his father.

"Say 'bye daddy!'" Dreamer cooed to Skidraider. The sparkling merely gurgled and patted the old mech's face, who chuckled a bit.

"See you at home later, Squirt," Ratchet chuckled, patting his son on the head.

Bumblebee and Sari lingered for a few moments longer after Ratchet's family left, but finally they too said their goodbyes and departed.

That was when Ratchet noticed that Prowl was lingering behind. "You don't need to stay here either, you know," the old medibot told the ninja.

"I just want to know if there is anything I can do for you," Prowl said simply.

"Not really, but thanks for the offer," Ratchet shrugged.

"Ratchet," Prowl said firmly, "just let me help you. I know you've taken Omega's...death quite hard. Don't shut me or anyone else out."

The cyber ninja then put his servo on his shoulder. "For once, let someone else carry the burdens."

Ratchet closed his optics and drew in a deep breath. "Maybe… like the Magnus, I just need a little time," he said. "I guess I do want to talk about it, but not yet, okay? If you want to help, go check on Optimus. And let me be for a few cycles."

Prowl looked at the older bot for a long moment, then finally nodded and withdrew his servo. "I'm here if you need me," the ninja promised. "Don't forget that, Ratchet."

"Don't worry Prowl, I'll never forget...never."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

A week went by, and it was a fairly eventful week at that. Optimus Magnus had returned to full duty just a day or two after waking in the hospital room, and tried his best to resume his normal duties.

However, it was obvious to everyone around him that he bore a heavy burden on his shoulders, heavier than any that even Ratchet had seen before. Although it was pretty obvious that having the burdens of ultimate leadership over Cybertron, along with finding out that you had been impersonated by someone—and that that someone had assaulted someone you cared deeply about in your absence—was more than most bots would be able to stand.

Optimus Magnus simply buried himself in his duties, speaking to the council whenever he needed to and tending to the things he needed to do. He avoided Elita entirely; unsure if he could bear facing her, and he was fairly certain that she did not want to see him.

But this day was going to be a special day for two bots in particular: Starscream and Skywarp.

Starscream was pleased enough. He even got him and his brother new paint jobs for it: He was a light red with a creamy sub-color, and Skywarp was now a lighter shade of blue.

They would now definitely look the part of being Autobots, and their Crossover Ceremony would cement their switching of factions.

Optimus Magnus stood at the end of the room, tightening his grip on his new, custom-made Magnus hammer. Since the old one had presumably gotten blown up along with everything else within Omega Supreme, a new one had been constructed.

There were quite a few bots present for the ceremony, including the council members. Prowl, Bulkhead, Bumblebee, Sari, Jazz, Ratchet and his family, and numerous other bots were there as well. Everyone watched silently as the two former Decepticons slowly walked forward, toward the Magnus.

Optimus raised his hammer as the two brothers stood before him. His processor thought back to the day when he'd been at a ceremony himself; when he had first become the new Magnus. So much had happened since then, it was almost impossible to fathom. It seemed so long ago, as if it had been a billion years… yet at the same time it seemed like it had been only a week ago.

The Magnus cleared his throat, forcing his train of thought back to the present.

"We are here for the official purification of Starscream and Skywarp, where they will no longer be Decepticons, but Autobots," began Optimus. "Not only will these two change their factions, they will change their designations, their goals, and their lives."

The Magnus looked down at the brothers, who were kneeling before him.

"Do you promise to uphold not only the Laws of the Autobot Council, but also the Amendments which Primus had established for all Cybertronians, and to honor your fellow Autobot brethren?"

"Y-yes I do!" Skywarp blurted, glancing off to the left and then the right, then up at Optimus. He looked nervous—as that was his nature—but he otherwise seemed all for what he was now agreeing to.

"And so do I," Starscream said, casting an annoyed glance toward his clone. Then he averted his optics back up toward the Magnus.

"Then rise for your new insignias...Starthrust, and Skyjet."

The two rose as Chromia came forward with four metallic looking Autobot insignias, two for each. Suddenly Starscream remembered the grueling Decepticon Ceremony he went through thousands of stellar cycles ago. Megatron himself would brand the symbol on a bot's chest or wings. Did the Autobots weld theirs?

Fortunately that was not the case. Chromia came to Starthrust first and pressed the symbol over where the Decepticon one was on his right wing. Somehow the thing...molded onto his own metal. The same happened on his other wing.

"I'm so proud of you Starscr-thrust," Chromia whispered to her assistant. Although Starthrust never seemed to like his new boss, the two had actually forged a strong sibling like relationship over time.

The newly christened Skyjet trembled slightly as Chromia then approached him, and he whimpered as she placed his new insignias on him just as she had done with Starthrust. Even though it caused him no pain whatsoever, Skyjet still whimpered and shuddered.

"Don't worry," Chromia muttered to him. "I'm sure we'll find you a nice, safe job… somewhere."

Skyjet smiled meekly and nodded. After Chromia resumed her seat next to Ironhide, the Ceremony began to draw to an end. Optimus then sealed it.

"Starthrust, Skyjet...welcome."

The room filled up with cheers and congratulations as the two new Autobots stood among the crowd.

And deep down, Starthrust could help but be proud.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Unicron used his sensors to peer at the robotic forms he'd built and reformatted from the broken Decepticons he'd found in space. They were now as good as new, having been fully repaired and rebuilt within him, and now they lay in deep stasis within individual chambers.

And they would stay that way until Unicron was ready to awaken them. But that would not be until the time was right. Unicron planned to move against Primus, to defeat his arch-enemy once and for all, but he knew that he would have to be clever about it.

Oh, yes. He would keep his minions with them, ready for when the time was right. And his minions would be lead by the newly rebuilt Galvatron, the Decepticon once known as Megatron.


	42. Chapter 42

The first thing Megatron became aware of was that he was in the dark. His glowing red optics flickered on and off a few times, trying to adjust to the black void around him. The soft glow from his eyes illuminated the inky blackness around him slightly, but it wasn't enough to help the fact that he was apparently stuck in pitch darkness.

However, his other senses could tell him things as well. The fact that he couldn't move told him that apparently he was being restrained… no, not restrained; he seemed to be inside some sort of room. There was barely enough space for him to move his servos, and so it told him he was in a cramped room or compartment.

So what did this mean? Was he someone's prisoner, or did he somehow get locked in one of the storage lockers on Omega Supreme?

Wait… Omega Supreme… he was destroyed.

Megatron blinked, then scowled. He could remember bits and bytes of things that happened before waking up here. But his memory was fragmented and there seemed to be some corrupted memory files. He could not remember everything. He proceeded to run a diagnostic on his systems, attempting to analyze his operating status as well as defragment his hard drives.

Finally, part of what happened came back to him. Omega Supreme had been boarded, and someone set off the self-destruct sequence. Next thing he knew… he was here.

Was he still onboard Omega Supreme? Was it possible that the giant Autobot had not been destroyed? Perhaps he had somehow been trapped into a storage locker, or maybe it was possible he'd gone into it himself in an attempt to protect himself from the blast.

Or perhaps it was possible that he was simply trapped inside a chunk of Omega Supreme that had remained fairly intact, now drifting aimlessly through space.

Yet his sensors told him that the temperature of the room—or whatever he was in—was that of a normal temperature within a moving vessel. Could it be that the self-destruct mechanism had only been partially successful? Perhaps Omega was still intact, simply damaged.

If that was the case, the fact that it was dark suggested that the giant Autobot might have been operating on bare minimal power. Either that or Megatron was trapped in a place where there was no light, and he would be able to see once he was out of the room.

Just then, his self-diagnostic completed itself. It duly informed him that all of his internal systems were functioning within normal perimeters, although it detected several changes throughout his internal structure and frame.

Megatron frowned to himself, then re-ran the self-diagnostic, ordering it to specify the results. Once it was completed, it gave him a more detailed analysis. Megatron ran the data through his processor carefully, and in the end he could only conclude that he had apparently been blown to bits and put back together again, with some changes and alterations made to his robotic body.

So if that was the case, perhaps Omega did blow up after all. And perhaps his minions had repaired him. But if that was the case, why was he apparently stuck or locked up inside a dark room? Something wasn't quite adding up here.

"I must try to get out of this room," he said out loud to himself. Part of him wanted to hear his own voice, to make certain it truly was functioning properly. Part of him simply didn't want to stand silently in the dark any longer.

However, his voice seemed… different, somehow. It still held a deepness that would command respect from others, but the pitch and texture were a bit different. "Hmm," he murmured aloud, testing his new voice out. "Perhaps if someone has rebuilt me, they were forced to give me a new vocalizer. Therefore my voice is now different."

He wasn't sure if he liked it. But he was grateful to be in one piece. So he was certain that he could get used to it.

Shoving the thought aside, he proceeded to focus his attention on the room around him. The inky blackness was ever-present, and he was surrounded by four walls, a floor and a ceiling. Well, surely there had to be a door somewhere. So he began to feel his way around, trying to find anything that resembled a panel or a door mechanism.

"Is there anyone out there?" he finally bellowed, when he didn't have much luck. "Let me out of here!" He slammed his servos against the wall in front of him with as much force as he could muster. Since there wasn't much room to draw his servos back too far, it ended up being a light punch delivered in the small space. Nevertheless, it echoed fairly well.

"Ah, you are awake," a deep voice seemed to radiate from the very walls around him.

"Who are you?" Megatron demanded. "Who is there?"

"I am Unicron, your new master," the deep, thundering voice replied. "I salvaged you, I remade you, and you are now mine, Galvatron."

Megatron growled. He knew what Unicron was, but wasn't ready to believe it just yet. HE was the leader of the most fearsome faction of the Cybertronian race; he'd be the one to get answers.

"I am owned by myself, whoever you truly are!" Megatron bellowed. "Now where am I?"

"Quite simple; you are inside me," the deep voice told him. "I salvaged you and your pitiful little Decepticons, and made you into a stronger army. But now, this means you all belong to me, and you have no choice but to obey my commands.

"No matter where you are, or where you go," the voice went on, "I will be aware of your every movement. There will be no escaping me, and I will not tolerate any disobedience. If you defy me one time too many, I have the power to snuff out your spark and send you straight to the Pit. Do I make myself clear?"

"Well...no." Megatron replied in a cool tone. He felt the atmosphere suddenly tense up, nearly crushing him, though the walls did not move.

"A foolish mistake," Unicron said.

All of a sudden, Megatron both saw and felt his surroundings change. Then in the very next instant, he suddenly felt as though he was on fire—not literally, but as though the very spark in his chassis was on fire, being scorched with flames that were far hotter than anything he'd ever experienced before.

He cried out, his arms flailing about and he attempted to move his legs, but he could not move very much. He could only stand there and scream as the fires penetrated his spark and seemed to burn it from the inside out. Yet there was no damage, and no deterioration; there was simply the burning, and each second got worse than the second before. Because there was no ceasing. The spark simply endured.

Then all of the pain ceased and the flames vanished, leaving Megatron leaning limply against the wall, panting. It was as though he'd just been through the worst torture of his existence, and it had drained all of the energy out of him.

"Now do you believe everything I am saying?" the deep voice asked.

Megatron couldn't find the strength to reply. He could only manage a grunt and a weak nod.

"Excellent," Unicron replied, satisfied. "And know this," he went on, in a slightly taunting voice. "You are destined for the Pit. I have simply given you a taste of it, and I have the power to send you there any time. I simply keep you online because it suits me, and I have a purpose for you. So, unless you want to face my wrath, or unless you want to endure the fires of the Pit for all eternity, obey me. And I will keep you functioning, and keep your pathetic spark out of the Pit for however long it suits my purposes."

Somewhere deep within his processor, Megatron wanted to refuse Unicron's offer; it was tiny though. His already stressed spark seemed to ache at the torment he went through just mere seconds before.

Then Megatron realized something. If he refused Unicron's offer, he would go to the Pit. If he sided with Unicron...well, he was destined for it anyway. He could not outwit a god, there was no where to go, he was not a leader.

He was a slave. A slave for the evil of Unicron.

"Ahh," crooned the deity, "it seems you have accepted your new role."

Megatron made no reply. Only a barely audible noise that sounded like a gasp or a grunt—or a combination of the two—escaped his vocalizer. But this simple sound seemed to be exactly what Unicron wanted to hear. It was something akin to resigned submission.

Just then, the wall just in front of him slid up, moving from bottom to top and vanishing into the ceiling above. This caused Megatron to fall out onto the floor just outside the doorway. He lay there limply for a moment, his optics trying to adjust to the sudden bright light.

"If you are now truly loyal to me, which I believe you are," the voice of Unicron went on, "I have something for you."

Out of nowhere, something suddenly appeared in his right servo. His fingers instinctively tightened around it, getting a firm grip on it.

"You want to know what this is," Unicron stated after a moment, as though reading his mind. "It is something else I salvaged and reassembled. It was formerly the Magnus hammer, which you had within your clutches. I found it, and I rebuilt it. It is now more powerful than it was previously, and its power is at your command.

"But of course," Unicron added, "you are at my command. Remember that."

"Yes..." said Megatron, now Galvatron, slowly replied, getting up carefully, "I...am at your command...master."

The hammer in his servo glowed softly as Unicron internally grinned.

His plan was working.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"So how are they doing?" Optimus Magnus asked quietly.

Ratchet glanced up from his screen work. He still had several text documents to go over and to sign. Some of them were reports about the various patients that had been cared for over the past couple of months, among other things. "Elita is doing fine," the gruff medic said, glancing at the screen just long enough to sign one final report. "She delivered her sparkling just an hour ago."

"Really?" Optimus said. "Well, that's good news." He cocked his head thoughtfully to one side. "Will they be released from the medical center soon?"

Ratchet shut off his monitor, giving the Magnus a thought look. He knew that Optimus knew from personal experience what it was like to be cooped up inside a medical room for observation, even if the Magnus had only been in there for a couple days.

"Well, Elita seems to be doing fine, as is the sparkling," the old medic replied. "Actually the one I'm really worried about is Sentinel."

"Sentinel?" Optimus echoed, raising an optical ridge. "How so?"

"He seems… to be torturing himself," Ratchet replied slowly and carefully. "It's like he's deeply haunted by something. The more he recovers and heals up on the outside, the more he simply withdraws into himself, mentally and emotionally."

The medic sighed. "I don't know what it is. It's like he won't connect with Elita right now, like he feels deeply guilty about a lot of things. The way he treated her when he first found out about her organic half, the way he treated others in general… and what he did while he was under Megatron's mind-control. But…" Ratchet frowned. "There seems to be something particularly strange."

"What is it?" Optimus queried.

"He claims he's seen the Pit, and actually been there," Ratchet said with a thoughtful scowl. "He said that he experienced the ultimate punishment to his spark, and somehow got pulled out of the Pit." He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "But I just don't know what to make of it. It might just be psychological, as if his processor is playing tricks on him or he's subconsciously punishing himself for all that happened. I can't think of any other explanation."

"Hmmm," Optimus murmured. "Perhaps we should try talking to Prowl about this sometime. It seems he has had an… out of body experience, so to speak."

"True," Ratchet said. He sighed.

Optimus chose to change the subject. "So, what is Elita calling her sparkling? And is it a femme or a mech?"

"It's a femme, and she named her Airazor...funny name..." Ratchet then pulled out a few files from his desk.

"Airazor is techno organic like Elita, but has transforming cogs in her internal structure," the medibot explained, "When she reaches the age, she can scan an organic mode for herself."

Optimus's optics widened. "How is it that she's a techno-organic?" he asked in surprise.

"Well, it seems that since she developed inside of Elita's spark—a spark which can't survive without organic components," Ratchet answered, "then her daughter is the same way. So we had to put organic components into the protoform that we placed her spark into."

"Are you saying Airazor is part spider?"

"No," Ratchet shook his head. "The organic matter we put into Airazor's protoform is what I'll call 'null organic matter'. Actually, it's not really organic, it's synthesized tissues that serve the same purpose."

"Ah, so it's fake organic tissues," Optimus said, nodding to himself. "That makes sense."

"Yeah. Like I said though, she's going to need an organic mode when she gets older, if she wants an alternate mode to transform into," Ratchet stated. "It would be much easier for her than to choose a vehicle mode."

"That would make sense," Optimus said in agreement. The conversation could've ended there, though the Magnus still wanted to chat with his old friend. It had been awhile since he talked to the red mech.

"Is Skidraider's eating habits getting any better?" he asked, grinning slightly, "Last time Arcee came by she said the sparkling only wanted to drink your high grade."

Ratchet chuckled. "Let's just say that when he gets hungry enough, he'll eat whatever we put in front of him."

Optimus chuckled as well. "I can imagine. I don't remember much of my early protoform days, but I vaguely recall my creators having a hard time getting me to drink my proper energon." He looked at Ratchet with a thoughtful expression. "How about you?"

"Don't want to think about my protoform days," Ratchet grumped. "That was way back before the war, and I spent so much time remembering what happened during the war…" He frowned. "I've kind of forgotten everything pre-war, at least a lot of it."

"Are you saying you don't remember anything about your protoform days?"

"Let's just say that when you get to be my age, and when you've seen as much as I've seen… the earliest days of your existence become like nothing more than a vague dream." Ratchet sighed wistfully. "I vaguely remember my creators… at least their faces. But I don't remember their names."

"I'm...sorry Ratchet," Optimus said. He remembered his own creators, but his mother died when he was young, and he and his father never got along very well. The moment Optimus began his training at the Elite Guard, the two lost contact with each other. In a way, he could connect with his elder companion.

"Eh, don't worry kid, I'm sure their names are in documentation somewhere. When Skid gets older I might let him look up his grandparents," Ratchet shrugged. Optimus frowned, knowing it still hurt him. Still, he went through much worse, and maybe someday he'd finally open up.

"Funny though," Ratchet stated interrupting the Magnus's thoughts, "I AM old enough to be the tykes' grandfather!"

"Well, at least it means you have more experience than any other mech out there," Optimus told him, placing a gentle servo on the older bot's shoulder. "You'll do fine by Skidraider, I just know it."

Ratchet grunted, but made no attempt to brush the hand away. "I hope so," he said, his voice becoming softer and more gravelly. "If it hadn't been for this blasted war…" He closed his eyes, shaking his head. "I may well have gotten bonded to someone long ago, and I'd already have great-grand-sparklings by now."

"If it weren't for the war," Optimus chimed in, "you never would have met Arcee."

"If it weren't for the war," Ratchet growled, "Arcee would have still been a teacher for all these stellar-cycles, instead of losing her memory and lying in a medical room while I was out destroying Decepticons with Omega Supreme."

The old medic signed. "Omega Supreme… slaggit, Optimus. He deserved a better fate than the one he got."

"He lived a full life," Optimus tried to reassure him. "And now Arcee is back, and you both have a son. Focus on the present, Ratchet. Stop looking at the past. You don't have to anymore."

Ratchet grumbled.

"At my age, there isn't too much of the present to live on."

"And with your age, you can teach your children of the sacrifices made to keep Cybertron free," Optimus replied softly. He slowly lifted his servo off of his shoulder. Ratchet looked up, and he saw the hurt and scars of war plastered on the medic's optics.

"We all made sacrifices Ratchet," Optimus continued, "and-though I hope it never happens-they may need to understand that they too need to sacrifice to keep freedom. Your generation will be gone in due time, but if you tell the future grown mechs and femmes of the War, your story will live, forever."

The older mech was silent for a long moment. Finally he nodded slowly. "Yeah, I guess you're right." His craggy features softened with a slight smile. "Though Arcee has always been better at the teaching and the storytelling."

Optimus smiled. "Ratchet, you've always been a good storyteller, whenever you choose to open up about stuff."

"It also helps if bots are willing to listen."

"Some will be," Optimus promised. "I'm sure some won't, but… some will be."

Ratchet cocked his head to one side as he glanced up at Optimus from his chair. "When did you begin to get such an interest in history, anyway?" he asked. He still remembered back in the days when they were merely space bridge technicians, Optimus had used much of his free time to observe footages from the Great War.

Optimus faltered for a moment, knowing he spent much of his adolescence watching history vids, saying it was homework as to avoid his father.

"Well, I...my father and I didn't get along to well, especially after my mother passed away," Optimus started. "Usually I stayed in my quarters watching history vids. One day I got to the point of the Great War, and something about it...inspired me."

Optimus paused for a brief second to see if Ratchet was still interested. He seemed to be, so he continued.

"My father wasn't very supportive of me in school, or at all for that matter..." Optimus grumbled under his breath, "but when I saw those stories of the soldiers who fought in those battles, I wanted to be just like them, someone worthwhile and just: a hero. I wanted to do something to help, to where everyone would at least appreciate my existence. That's when I decided to join the army and train for the Elite guard."

"Looks like you got everything you set out to be," Ratchet murmured with a nod. "I don't care what Ultra Magnus or anyone else used to say. You proved that being a hero is indeed in your programming." The old medic smiled. "It just took being chosen by the Allspark, some unique circumstances and some experience to flesh you out, so to speak."

"I guess so," Optimus said, then sighed. "I never thought I would ever become a Magnus, though. I still feel undeserving of this position, and… sometimes I wish I was still out there, watching out for Decepticons." He stared off into space, looking deeply thoughtful.

"Well," Ratchet said, rising from his chair and bringing Optimus's attention back to the present. "I'd love to stay here and chat, but I need to get home. I'm finished up here and Arcee will be wondering where I am." He chuckled softly. "Dreamer has been needing some help with schoolwork lately, and since Arcee has been teaching her at home… sometimes it helps both of them a lot if I get home right after work to watch Skidraider for a while."

"Ah, alright then," Optimus said. "Well, I'll let you get to it, then. Tell the family I said hi." He smiled.

Ratchet smiled back. "Will do." He patted Optimus on the shoulder. "And thanks. I really enjoyed our little chit-chat."

Optimus smiled widely. "Anytime."


	43. Chapter 43

Optimus Magnus quietly entered his office, sitting down at his enormous desk as the electronic doors slid shut behind him. In many ways it seemed that the past few days had been quite eventful. In fact, he was still trying to get all of the screenwork taken care of.

He was glad that he'd had that talk with Ratchet, though. The old medi-bot needed someone to talk to once in a while, even if he wouldn't admit it. In many ways, Ratchet had been like a mentor to the entire team while they were on Earth. But even the wisest, most caring of bots needed an audio to listen once in a while.

Optimus shoved the thought aside and proceeded with his work. He knew he wasn't going to get anything done by sitting around daydreaming.

He had just finished checking his messages and had just begun to look through his screenwork when the door chimed. "Yes?" he spoke up, feeling a mixture of relief and annoyance at the interruption. "What is it?"

The femme-bot-a silvery Autobot who had just taken a job there as his new security, after the other one had resigned-stood in the doorway. For some reason, Optimus could never remember her name, and he wasn't about to ask again. She seemed easily offended in that area.

"There's someone here to see you," she spoke up in her soft yet husky voice.

"Ah," Optimus said, glancing up from his work. He shut off the monitor he'd been looking at in order to free up his attention and give it to his visitor. "Is it Starthrust and Skyjet?"

"No," the femme replied, shaking her head slightly. "I know you summoned them, but they aren't here yet. I think they got delayed."

Optimus sighed. "Delayed by what?"

"It has something to do with the Dinobots," the femme shrugged indifferently. Yet something about the forced composure on her features told Optimus that she knew something he wasn't telling.

"What about the Dinobots?" the Magnus asked, and at once he wondered if he shouldn't be asking.

"I guess they escaped from the area where they're supposed to be, and somehow they happened to end up where Skyjet and Starthrust were performing their morning flying exercises," the security replied, somewhat warily. "I don't know the details, but the officials say that the situation is now under control. The Dinobots are being escorted back to their designated area... and the two seekers are being escorted here even as we speak."

Optimus groaned slightly and shook his head. It always had to be something, didn't it? "No one was hurt, were they?" he asked warily.

"No."

"Oh, good then," Optimus said, letting out a sigh of relief. "Um," he added as an afterthought, "what about damage?"

"Only minimal," the femme stated. "Now, do you wish to see your visitors, sir?"

"Oh, sure," Optimus replied, clearing his vocalizer. Anything to give him a break from screenwork was worth it. "Who are they?"

Without answering, the femme simply ushered the visitors toward the door and walked out of the office.

Optimus raised his optical ridges when he saw who was coming in. It was none other than Waspinator and Muckruck.

Muckruck had been doing different things ever since the techno-organic trial, although he seemed to be having trouble finding a place to fit in. Especially since he seemed to have a problem with throwing up sleech no matter where he went.

Waspinator had recently been released from the stockade, due to the fact that there was no longer any reason to hold him there. He had been, after all, cleared of charges since it had been proven that Longarm had framed him.

Plus there seemed to be a growing sympathy toward techno-organics, and even organics. Many bots were still worried about contamination and still felt that organics were disgusting little germs, but there were many bots who were gradually coming to accept them.

All of this, however, did not give Optimus any answers as to why these two techno-organics were in his office, right now.

"Um, may I help you?" the Magnus asked, glancing at both of them.

Waspinator let out a shrill hiss and approached the desk, slamming his arms down on it. This sudden action caused Optimus to flinch, though he remained still otherwise.

"Waspinator want to see Bumblebot!" the stripy techno-organic hissed.

"Um, why do you want to see Bumblebot-I mean, Bumblebee, Waspinator?" Optimus asked, his optics twitching.

Muckruck cleared his throat. "Optimus," he said slowly, "you could say that me and Waspinator are roommates... and partners."

"Partners?" Optimus echoed. "What exactly are you both up to?"

Well, ever since the trial, and Waspinator's release, we've been roommates and...hold on...ACK-CK!-"

Before he could continue, Muckruck got into another coughing fit. Optimus shifted awkwardly at his seat as the brown mech finally spewed a good amount of carbon sleech onto the floor. He wiped his mouth before continuing.

"Anyway," Muckruck said, still hacking a bit, "since I'm pretty much stuck with this guy, I have to hear him whine about this Bumblebot guy,"

"Yes, Waspinator see Bumblebot!" he spat.

"So..." Optimus stated, "... why do you want to see Bumblebee?"

By this point, Muckruck had managed to stop coughing. Although he had left a very slimy mess on the floor on his feet. And was some of the sleech... moving?

"Waspinator wants to talk to him, that's all," Muckruck wheezed, then breathed deeply in and out, slowly.

"I see," Optimus replied, eyeing each of them warily with his optics. "What do you wish to speak to him about?"

"Waspinator wishes to speak to Bumble-bot about what Bumble-bot did to Waspinator!" the waspy techno-organic exclaimed.

"There is no need to blame him for anything," Optimus told him, quietly standing up from his desk and holding out his servos in front of him. "Longarm was the real person to blame. Bumblebee was just trying to prove himself. And he did say he was sorry."

"WASPINATOR WANTS TO TALK TO BUMBLE-BOT ANYWAY!" Waspinator exploded, shoving past Muckruck and slamming his hands down on Optimus's desk again. This time the desk actually groaned and cracked, causing Optimus to take a hasty step back.

"NOT if you are going to threaten him or harm him in any way," Optimus stated firmly, regaining his composure. He also braced himself, just in case Waspinator got violent. "If you want to go and have a civil discussion, then maybe-"

"Don't worry, Magnus," Muckruck wheezed. "I'll keep him under control. I've been able to so far. He used to throw leftover energon at some kids who would ram rocks at his...oh Primus..." The poor mech then got into another coughing fit.

Optimus sighed. "Fine... Bumblebee is probably at his home. Actually it's Bulkhead's home, but he lives there with Sari and Bulkhead. But I'm sending a guard to accompany you. And I don't want either of you to try anything. Is that understood?"

Waspinator stiffly nodded, while Muckruck could only continue his fit.

Optimus stared at them as they left, then simply shook his head. He pressed the intercom and ordered one of the guards within the building to stay with them and keep an eye on them... until further notice.

Once that was done, Optimus sat down at his desk again. Ignoring the damage, he turned on his monitor and was just about to E-sign the first piece of screenwork he was reviewing when his secretary knocked on his door again.

Optimus took a moment to sign the file, then shut off his monitor. "Yes?" he called out.

"Starthrust and Skyjet are here to see you," she called out.

"Good," Optimus said. "Send them in."

The door opened and the pair of seekers came in. "Careful of the mess," Optimus murmured as they approached his desk. Neither of them noticed the sleech on the floor until they had already stepped in it. And the moving portions were already beginning to wrap themselves around Skyjet's leg.

Skyjet freaked and screamed, flinging himself into his clone-brother's arms. Starthrust stared at him for a moment, growled, then tried to pry his brother off of him.

"Let go of me!" Starthrust, formerly known as Starscream, snapped. But all his brother did was whimper and cling more tightly. "You're getting dents in my wings!" Growling, Starthrust shifted himself so that he could lean away from his brother while wedging his servos in-between their bodies and finally managed to pry him off.

"Okay," Optimus spoke up, moving away from his desk and catching Skyjet before he could fall into the sleech. This also prevented the cowardly bot from leaping back at his clone-brother again. However, it did cause Skyjet to yelp and jump into Optimus's arms.

The Magnus looked down at the clone-bot in his arms, shook his head, then proceeded to sit down behind his desk once again. Skyjet was clinging to him tightly so that he couldn't pry him off. Optimus chose to tolerate it, although he felt a bit awkward in this current position. Skyjet was currently sitting in his lap, with his arms wrapped tightly around the Magnus's shoulders, his head resting against Optimus's chest with his optics closed. Optimus suppressed a groan. If anyone came into the office right now, this would definitely look… well…

And Starthrust's smirk wasn't helping matters either.

"I have a job for both of you," Optimus finally stated, making an attempt to get on with the matter at hand. He kept his optics on Starthrust, trying to ignore the awkward position of Skyjet in his lap.

And the Magnus almost managed to forget Skyjet… and perhaps he would have, if it wasn't for the half-mischievous, half-annoyed look that seemed to be glued onto Starthrust's face.

"Oh? And what is this job?" the bot formerly known as Starscream asked, folding his arms across his chassis. He was standing right in the midst of the mess on the floor, but he no longer seemed to care. If some of the moving pieces got too close or started to bother him, he simply stomped on them.

"We've been picking up some odd readings in a remote sector," the Autobot leader replied. He kept his optics on Starthrust's helm. That way he didn't have to look at the smirk, or the disgusting mess on the floor, or be reminded of the—as Sari would say—scaredy-bot in his lap.

"Oh, and so you want little ol' me to go and investigate," Starthrust estimated, pointing a finger at himself.

"Yes, because you were once a Decepticon yourself," Optimus replied with a nod. He then noticed that Skyjet was nuzzled against the base of his neck, which caused the Magnus to shift uncomfortably. "You should know all their frequencies and access codes, and their way of doing things. So just in case they're up to something out there, I want you and Skyjet to take a transwarp gate out there and investigate."

"Oh you mean I have to take him with me?" Starthrust asked. He frowned at his cowardly brother with disgust. "He looks like an overgrown sparkling ready to nurse processed energon from his mother-creator!" He cackled at the thought. "Dear, dear, Optimus Magnus… do you enjoy being a mommy?"

At that, Optimus growled and forcefully pried Skyjet loose. He then shoved the former Decepticon gently but firmly aside. Skyjet whimpered and ended up leaning against the edge of the desk, clinging to it a little.

"It will give you both something to do," the Magnus finally said, once he was sure Skyjet wasn't going to freak out and jump either him or Starthrust again. "Besides, it wouldn't hurt Skyjet here to do something to prove himself. Maybe, to borrow an Earth phrase, you could help him 'get a backbone' by being a good example to him out there, Starthrust."

"Yeah right," Starthrust snorted. "He's afraid of everything. He's even afraid of heights, if he ever notices how high he is above the ground. That's why it took us so long to get here, you know. He got scared and dove toward the ground. Then we both ran into the Dinobots while I was trying to get him back on track."

"Well, at least nothing bad happened out there," Optimus murmured. "Look, I need you both to go on this mission, and I think it will be good for you."

"Oh very well," Starthrust relented, waving his hand resignedly. "Maybe Skyjet will get himself shot out there and I won't have to worry about him," he murmured, almost too quietly to hear. Thankfully, Skyjet didn't seem to hear.

"Just get going," Optimus ordered, ignoring the last comment. He gently tossed Starthrust a datapad, who caught it easily. "Those are the coordinates to your destination. I want you both to fuel up on energon if you need it, then go scout out the area. You're probably going to be there for a while."

"Oh joy," Starthrust muttered. He then turned and headed out of the office, glancing over the information he'd been given and grumbling all the way.

"Go on," Optimus urged Skyjet. The cowardly bot whimpered, then eased himself away from the desk and followed after his brother.

Once he was sure they both were gone, Optimus pressed a servo against the intercom activation button.

"Yes?" his secretary/receptionist answered immediately.

"Send for the janitor," Optimus said. "Tell him I'll triple his pay if he comes in the deal with this… mess in my office right away and if he does a thorough job."

"Yes, Magnus."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Sari Sumdac looked over her belongings as she packed them. There was a photo of her dad, along with her teddy bear and a few other things.

As she went through them, trying to decide what to pack and what to leave at her Cybertronian home, she couldn't help but think back a bit. In some ways, it seemed like it was only yesterday when she and her friends had left Earth.

"Maybe I should never have left," she muttered as she slammed one of her suitcases shut and latched it up. "Maybe if I had been there, I could have helped stop Megatron somehow."

She just had to see the place for herself. She knew that Detroit had been attacked, and that a lot of the people she had known there were dead. She also knew that a lot of people on Earth were probably struggling to get things done without the aide of her dad's technology… unless they'd found someone else to take over the company.

She growled under her breath. "I hope Powell hasn't taken it over again. If he has…" She didn't bother to finish the thought. Part of her hoped that he had been killed in the attack as well. She felt a bit guilty for even thinking that, but it was how she felt.

Just then she heard the sound of clanking footsteps approaching. She turned and saw Bulkhead and Bumblebee approaching.

"Bulkhead!" Sari exclaimed, standing up and rushing over to hug his leg. "Me and Bumblebee haven't seen you home for ages!"

"Yeah well, I've been busy, as you can imagine," Bulkhead said with a shrug. "Working on space bridges, helping to create new design schematics, you name it. Today though, I have the day off."

"Cool! Then maybe you can come with me and Bumblebee!"

"To where?" Bulkhead asked, glancing from Sari to Bee.

"To Earth," Bumblebee replied. "We're gonna go there to visit the grave of Sari's dad."

"I just hope they found him and gave him a good burial," Sari murmured.

"I'm sure they have," Bumblebee said, reaching out for her. She gave him a little smile and climbed into his arms, allowing him to give her a gentle hug.

"Well, I guess I don't have much planned for today," Bulkhead shrugged. "Besides, I'm not even home very much so… this place doesn't even feel like a home to me."

"Maybe it's also because Bumblebee leaves this place in such a mess!" Sari exclaimed. "Bee, I've been telling you that you should clean up after yourself better!"

"It's not that bad!" Bumblebee muttered.

Bulkhead glanced around the room, taking everything in. They were in the main living room, and he saw Sari's belongings scattered on the floor, although he dismissed those. He then noticed the couch cluttered with various odds and ends—some of them being Earth CDs and comic books. The floor had a fair amount of clutter as well.

"Well hey, you're not home much, Bulkhead, so you know…" Bumblebee trailed off, looking sheepish.

"Yeah well, we won't worry about it right now," Bulkhead said. "Sari, as soon as you finish packing… I guess we'll go to Earth."

Bumblebee took that as his cue to set Sari down. But just as she started back toward her suitcases, there was a sudden knock on the door.

"Who could that be?" Bulkhead muttered aloud, then walked over to answer it.

Once he opened the door, he saw two figures standing there. Both of them were obviously techno-organics, although they were both familiar. One he recognized from the news of the techno-organic trial, and the other one…

"WASPINATOR WANTS TO SEE BUMBLE-BOT!" the other one, who looked striped and waspy, screamed.

"AAHH!" Bumblebee screamed, and ran from the room.

Instinctively Bulkhead stood in the doorway in case Waspinator tried to attack. However the brown mech with him, Muckruck, had already held him back by the arm. He gave the giant bot in front if him a nonchalant look.

"Sorry about that, Waspinator's just a little excited," Muckruck explained. Sari got out from behind Bulkhead to face the two techno organics herself.

"A 'little' excited?" she said sarcastically, "From what I heard that wasp guy tried to kill Bee!"

"Don't worry little lady, we've got an escort with us from the Magnus. Waspinator's only here to talk to that guy." Muckruck pointed behind him with his thumb, and that's when Sari and Bulkhead noticed the guard like Autobot standing there with a staff. He was somewhat taller than Bumblebee, but not short, and he was grey/blue mix.

"Now Waspinator talk to Bumblebot?" he asked.

"What do you want to talk to him about?" Sari demanded, narrowing her eyes and placing her hands on her hips.

"Waspinator just want to talk!" the stripy techno-organic exclaimed, buzzing his wings impatiently.

"Fine," Sari said, throwing out her arms in a resigned shrug. Besides, it seemed like Waspinator was out-numbered here, so that they could all handle him if he did get out of control. And maybe if they let him talk to Bumblebee, he would shut up and go away.

"Bumblebee," the red-haired girl called out, moving away from the door and going into the other room. She had to look in a few rooms, but she finally found Bumblebee hiding in his recharge room with the door locked. "Bumblebee," she called out, banging her fist against the door. "Come on out, I think it's okay."

The door did not open. It did not even unlock. But she did receive a verbal response. "Are you sure?" came Bumblebee's timid voice.

"Yeah, don't worry about it," Sari said. And she hoped that there really was nothing to worry about. Still, Waspinator couldn't do anything to harm Bee with so many others there, including herself… right? "He says he just wants to talk. I think you should hear him out."

"Well… okay." Bumblebee opened the door, and stepped out of his room.

"Come on," Sari said, reaching out and grabbing his finger. She then began to lead him toward the front door, where the others were still waiting.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Prowl cleared his vocalizer softly in spite of himself. He was standing just outside the residence of Ratchet and his family. The black-mech ninja knew that Ratchet probably wasn't home from the Iacon hospital yet, although he knew that he would be there soon.

I simply need to drop off this datapad, that is all, he thought. He had stopped by the hospital earlier in order to visit Elita and Sentinel to see how they were doing. But they were both busy with their new baby sparkling, so they did not wish to be disturbed. On the way out of the hospital, someone had handed Prowl a datapad and specifically asked him to drop it off at Ratchet's home.

Prowl was not the nosey sort, so he did not ask why, nor did he look at the datapad. He was a bit curious what this was all about, but he'd strongly deduced that it was a personal message of some sort. And so he would not bother to pry.

The reason he was so nervous about knocking on the door though was because of Dreamer. It had been a while since he'd seen her, but the incident where she'd kissed him, in front of everyone at the Iacon hospital, was probably going to scar his processor for a long time to come.

Still it wasn't like he had anything to be worried about. He had no feelings whatsoever for Dreamer, and he also knew that she was in good hands with Ratchet and Arcee. He also knew that she was likely even more embarrassed about the incident than he was. But that didn't make him feel any better about knocking on the door. What if she answered?

However he was saved from knocking on the door, because it was that very moment when Ratchet pulled up toward the home in his vehicle mode. After the old medic pulled up beside Prowl, he transformed into robot mode. "Hey there, Prowl," he said, sounding mildly surprised. "What brings you out here?"

"Someone at the Iacon hospital asked me to give you this," Prowl replied, instantly handing over the datapad.

"Hmm," Ratchet murmured, taking the pad and looking it over. After a second's pause, his optics went wide. "Oh… my… by the Allspark!" He shook his head fiercely. "Oh crud."

"What is it?" Prowl couldn't help but ask. He was concerned for his friend, especially as a look of horror crossed over his features. "Ratchet, what is it?" The ninja placed a servo on the medic's shoulder. "What does the message say?"

"Let's just say I'm going to need some help," Ratchet growled. He pressed the button on the side of his head to activate his intercom. "Arcee," he said in an urgent tone.

His bondmate replied immediately. "Yes, Ratchet. What's the matter?" She sounded concerned.

"Arcee," Ratchet said, speaking quickly, "I have to go somewhere. It's a medical emergency. I'm going to take Prowl with me to help. I need you to stay with the kids, okay?"

"Okay, Ratchet. Good luck!"

"Thanks, I'll need it," Ratchet muttered, and terminated the commlink. "Well, Prowl, unless you're doing something right now, I'm going to need your help." With that, he transformed into his vehicle mode and sped off down the street.

Prowl immediately transformed and took off after him, having to speed up in order to catch up. "Ratchet, what is going on?" he asked over his commlink, knowing that the older bot wouldn't be able to hear him while they were moving so quickly in their vehicle modes. "Where are we going?"

"Well, Prowl," Ratchet informed him, speeding up just a little, "it seems that someone has a medical emergency, someone who didn't want to come to the Iacon hospital."

"Why not?"

"Because they apparently like their private little lives, living in seclusion down in the ancient tunnels."

"Who are they?"

"Nightbird and Oil Slick."

Prowl did a double-take and nearly careened off-course, but he quickly caught himself. He then caught up to Ratchet and followed him closely. "Yes, I know them," the ninja told the older bot. "I always wondered what happened to them and where they went. But what is wrong? Are they injured?"

"Not exactly," came Ratchet's reply. "Apparently Nightbird has sparked, and she needs assistance in the delivery."

If Prowl had been in his robot mode, he would have blinked. "You're saying you need my help to be a midwife?" he blurted.

"I could use the extra help. Arcee has to stay with the kids, and there's no time to get someone from the hospital. Apparently Nightbird is overdo and her systems are beginning to malfunction. We have to get there and help her, fast."

"Any idea why her systems are malfunctioning?"

"Apparently it's a system overload. Her spark can't sustain fully-developed triplets for very long."

Prowl did another double-take, although this time he managed to stay on-course, just behind Ratchet. "Did you say… triplets?" the ninja gasped.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Waspinator, Muckruck, and the unnamed Autobot guard had moved into the kitchen by the time Sari managed to drag Bumblebee all the way down the hallway from his bedroom. Bulkhead was already there with them, and they all seemed to be sipping on some high grade.

"Careful and don't drink too much," Bulkhead warned. "This stuff can do nasty things to you."

"Don't worry," Muckruck muttered, then coughed up some sleech into his cup.

"Ew!" Sari exclaimed, as she and Bumblebee entered the kitchen. Her exclamation announced their presence.

"BUMBLE-BOT!" Waspinator yelled. Everyone standing close to him jumped.

"Um, y-yes?" Bumblebee said, his optics widening. He took a step back.

Waspinator folded his hands across his chest. "Waspinator has decided just when he will forgive Bumble-bot."

"Oh… really?" Bumblebee said, his mouth forming a smile. Then the smile quickly faded as he added, "Um, when will you forgive me?"

"After Waspinator makes you into a real Bumblebee-bot!" With that, Waspinator hissed and dashed forward, quickly transforming into his wasp-mode and flinging himself toward Bumblebee. Before anyone could react, Waspinator thrust his stinger into Bumblebee's chassis.

Bumblebee screamed in pain and collapsed on the floor with a heavy thud. Muckruck stared with open-mouthed shock, his glass slipping through his fingertips and crashing noisily on the floor. The guard grabbed Waspinator roughly and slapped a pair of stasis cuffs on him. The guard then mumbled an apology and proceeded to escort Waspinator out of the room.

Muckruck looked around, looking unsure what to do. He then decided to leave, to follow the guard and his roommate.

That left Sari, Bulkhead and the writhing Bumblebee alone.

Sari was crouched beside Bumblebee. She touched him and closed her eyes, her hand glowing softly as she scanned his systems. "Oh, no!" she exclaimed when she opened her eyes and pulled her hand away. "Waspinator infected him with wasp-venom! Bumblebee is turning into a... half-bee!"


	44. Chapter 44

Bulkhead's jaw fell so low that it fell off his face and clattered on the floor. He quickly recovered enough to pick it up and put it back in place, though. He hadn't lost himself quite like that since… well, since the day he'd first laid eyes on BlackArachnia's slender form when she appeared on Earth.

"I don't get it!" Sari exclaimed, more to herself than to Bulkhead. "I heard about a lot of things that happened during the techno-organic trial mess, and whatever. I heard that Waspinator stung somebody and it just eroded their circuitry." She shook her head in bafflement, gesturing toward Bumblebee's writhing form and glancing up at her big green friend. "How can this be happening to him?"

"I don't know, maybe Waspinator did something to his venom. Like, changed it or something." Bulkhead shook his head. "Come on, we gotta get him help." With that he moved forward and bent over to pick up Bumblebee into his arms.

Sari moved out of the way, to give him more room without having to watch out for her. She cast a quick, reflexive glance toward the luggage she had been packing. She suddenly realized that she'd forgotten all about the visit to Earth, but it would have to wait now anyway. Bumblebee was a priority at this moment.

"Okay, whenever I transform I don't have enough to fit much inside me, except maybe a human or two," Bulkhead said, "so unless we find someone to help us, I'm gonna have to carry him like this."

"Unless maybe we can strap him down on the back of your vehicle mode," Sari pointed out. "And I can sit in your front seat."

"Hmm, didn't think of that," Bulkhead murmured thoughtfully.

Without wasting anytime they ran outside, and there Bulkhead transformed into his alt mode. In his vehicle form he helped Sari strap Bumblebee on top of him using his arm. After making sure he was strapped in securely, Sari hopped down and climbed into Bulkhead.

"Hurry!" Sari demanded anxiously. The mech practically burnt rubber and sped off to the Iacon hospital.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Yes, I said triplets!" Ratchet exclaimed. "It is extremely rare, but not completely unheard of."

The medic then swerved and sped off down a remote street, one that lead to a particularly shady area of Iacon. This was the area where gangsters planned out how to do their dirty work, plus some homeless bums lived there. It was definitely not an area to go into alone, and especially not the place to go if you had no weapons or combat training. Ratchet was fairly confident that he and Prowl could handle themselves if they ran into trouble, though.

"I have heard of twins," Prowl murmured thoughtfully. After all, Jetfire and Jetstorm were twin brothers, having formed from a single spark that split in half. "But never triplets."

"Well, from the way it sounds, they weren't exactly expecting the triplets," Ratchet murmured. "They were expecting twins. And Nightbird's systems and spark could handle sustaining a pair of new sparks as they grew, but then something happened."

"What is it?" Prowl inquired, revving his engine in order to keep up with the medic's quickened pace.

"Well," Ratchet answered, sounding somewhat hesitant and awkward, "I guess you could say that, in some ways, it depends on the… habits of a bonded pair. Some of them don't interface at all while a femme is sparked, either because she doesn't want to, or because she's thinking of the welfare of her sparklings. Either way, well, if a femme interfaces while she is sparked, usually nothing happens to the sparklings. But once in a rare while…"

Prowl's processor was already working. "Let me guess," he said thoughtfully, when Ratchet trailed off. "Sometimes, in rare cases, a third sparkling can be conceived, if the bonded pair interfaces while the femme is sparked with twins?"

"You got it," came Ratchet's gruff reply. "And sometimes her spark simply can't take that much strain. We have to get to Nightbird fast, or she could go offline. Permanently."

Prowl noticed that Ratchet went even faster. It surprised him that a mech his age could even handle the strain at that speed. Then again, the medic had gone through worse.

"We're almost there," stated Ratchet as he turned. Prowl followed carefully, noticing Ratchet transform before an opening to an underground tunnel. It was already opened and the two quickly jumped down to the ladder to climb down.

"Ratchet, where exactly are Nightbird and Oil Slick?"

"I think they told me in the note that they wouldn't be too far from the entrance," Ratchet replied, his voice echoing off the walls as he went down.

Once the two mechs reached the bottom of the stairs, they heard metallic footsteps approaching. The sound quickly grew louder, and echoed gently off the surrounding walls.

"Excellent, you are here," Oil Slick spoke as he stepped out of the shadows. He then narrowed his optics when he saw Prowl standing behind Ratchet. "I thought I asked you to come here alone, medic."

"I needed the extra help," Ratchet growled in reply. "Just in case the situation turns worse."

Oil Slick gave a resigned shrug, his concern for his mate apparently winning over. "She's over here," he said, turning and leading the way.

Nightbird was just a few meters away. She was lying flat on the ground, her arms stretched out at her sides and her optics closed. "She's reserving energy, though I can assure you that she knows we're here, and she can hear us," Oil Slick informed the others as he kneeled down beside her.

Ratchet crouched on her other side, while Prowl stood a short distance away. The black-mech ninja was keeping out of the way, but was ready to assist when and if he was needed.

"Alright, Nightbird, listen to me closely," Ratchet in a gruff yet soft voice, "I'm going to run a scan of your systems. Just keep doing what you're doing; relax and divert your extra energy to your spark."

There was a slight movement of Nightbird's head. It was the only acknowledgement she gave. She was determined to do everything she could to keep her sparklings alive.

"Dear Primus," Ratchet groaned after he scanned her. "She's fading fast. She simply does not have enough energy to support the sparklings, and her spark is literally burning itself out trying to sustain her and the three younger sparks."

Ratchet sighed, then his features became very serious. "Okay, I didn't want to have to do this, but I was prepared for it just in case. It looks like we'll have to do it."

"Do what?" Oil Slick inquired, folding his arms across his chassis.

"Well, since you don't seem to have any protoforms around here," Ratchet answered, glancing around warily, "we're going to have to take drastic measures. Normally I wouldn't recommend this, but under the circumstances, it's going to be the only way we can save all three sparklings, and save Nightbird's life."

"Alright… what is it?" Oil Slick wanted to know. He unfolded his arms.

"Quite simply, we're going to have to deliver the sparklings, right here and now," Ratchet said.

"But if we do that they will die," Prowl pointed out with a frown. "Since we have no protoforms to put them in, as you said."

"You didn't let me finish," Ratchet snapped. "We will deliver them, and then each of us mechs will have to place one of them within each of our own sparks. It's the only way they will survive, at least until we can get to the hospital where they have protoforms available."

Oil Slick blinked.

So did Prowl. "You want us… to do what?"

"You heard me," the old medic growled impatiently. "It's the only way we can take the stress off of Nightbird's systems. And it's the only way we can sustain the sparklings until we can get them into their own protoform bodies."

"But Ratchet," Prowl interjected, "aren't you a bit...old?"

"I'll be fine!" Ratchet was already beginning to gently pry Nightbird's outer chassis loose. "We don't have much time. We have to do this fast or she'll die!"

Once he had the front piece of Nightbird's chassis off, he ran another scan over her spark. "Crud," he muttered. "I'm not sure if my plan will work. The sparklings—like all sparklings—have their own unique energy signatures, and it would be best for them if they were kept in a spark that created then."

Ratchet then turned toward Oil Slick. "Alright, here's what we'll do. Oil Slick, you're going to have to take two of them. Nightbird should be able to handle keeping one in her spark chamber until we get her to the hospital, at least."

Oil Slick was about to argue, since he really didn't want to get up to the surface. Yet his family was his number one concern.

"Fine, I'll take the twins," he replied, "So do I just open my chamber?"

"You might want to lie down first," Ratchet murmured. "Then open it, and… keep completely still. I'll do the rest."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Bulkhead arrived at the Iacon hospital's entrance with his sirens blazing and his tires screeching. Sari then flung his door open and jumped out. Bulkhead transformed once she was in the clear, which caused Bumblebee to be freed from his back as the tethers broke.

Bulkhead then bent down and scooped the ailing yellow bot into his arms, and followed Sari as she went in through the front entrance. "HELP!" she yelled out. "WE NEED SOME HELP OUT HERE!"

A red and white femme, who happened t be walking back to the hospital after a break, rushed to Bulkhead and Sari. As she got closer they saw that it was Red Alert.

"Hurry, take him in!" she ordered. As they ran in side she ordered an emergency room to be open and were rushed to it.

"What's the problem?" she asked.

"He got stung by Waspinator," Sari said in a rush, "and he infected him with organic venom."

"I'll see what I can do," Red Alert replied briskly, focused on the task at hand. She gestured Bulkhead to set Bumblebee down on the medical bed in the room. Then she began to run her scanners over the yellow bot's limp form.

"I'm going to give him something that will slow the spread of the venom," Red Alert said. She then grabbed an injection device and pressed the end of it against Bumblebee's neck, giving him a dose of the compound within it. Then she scanned him again. "Good, the spread has actually… stopped for the moment," she said. "But it won't last for long, we need something more potent."

She turned to leave the room, but Bulkhead stopped her. "Wait a minute, where are you going?" he asked her.

"To get Perceptor," she replied. "We need his level of expertise on this."

Red Alert rushed out of the room to where Perceptor researched in the labs upstairs. She knew all to well that ever since the techno organic trials, the scientist turned off his commlink to focus on various anti-venoms he was experimenting with. She groaned knowing there was a good ways up until she would reach the research lab.

"Good Primus Perceptor..." she mumbled, running up as fast as she could.

When she finally got there, her air vents were literally huffing and puffing to cool her systems. They had overheated a tad from her effort to hurry up those steps. Then she pounded on the door. "Perceptor!" she called out at the top of her voice. "We have an emergency. A young bot has been infected with organic venom."

Two seconds passed, then door slid open. Perceptor stepped out and looked at her with his stoic features. "Lead the way," he told her.

She groaned inwardly. That meant she had to run down all those stairs she had just come up. Then again, at least she was going down this time.

The two ran back down the stairs and reached the emergency room. The moment they entered, Perceptor ushered Sari and Bulkhead out of the room. He barely looked over the readings on Bumblebee's systems when he ordered, "I have anti-venom to destroy what's left in his body. However, he will be very weak. Red Alert, go get the small blue bottle from the counter over there."

Red Alert did as she was told and handed it to him. "You sure this will work?" she asked quietly.

Perceptor made no reply; he simply got to work.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Nightbird gasped and moaned on the ground, although she did her best to keep still. Her spark was already strained, but now it was protesting in agony as Ratchet carefully worked to remove the two older sparklings from her spark chamber.

Beside her, Oil Slick lay flat on his back, holding one of her servos in his own and flinching self-consciously as Ratchet worked on her spark. He could feel her pain through their bond as though it was his own.

Will the sparklings live? she asked through their bond, scared for her children.

I won't let that happen love, he replied. Subconsciously he held Nightbird's servo even tighter.

"Ah!" Nightbird shrieked. Oil Slick flinched visibly this time, knowing that the medic was taking out the twins. He tried to send comfort to his mate through the bond despite his own pain.

"Alright," Oil Slick heard Ratchet's voice say. But the chemist kept his optics offline, wanting to focus on comforting Nightbird. "I'm going to put them in your chassis now, Oil Slick. Hopefully they will connect to your spark once I've placed them inside."

Oil Slick merely nodded. He then felt a slight tingling sensation as Ratchet leaned over him. The twin sparklings were in the aged Autobot's servos, pulsing gently. They were probably protesting and crying out in their own way, having been severed from their mother's spark and were being deprived of nourishment. Then, after a moment, Oil Slick felt his spark swell up in his chassis as the sparklings came into contact with his spark, connecting to it.

He then began to feel slightly drained, yet his systems and spark were stable. It was simply that his body was supporting two more sparks now, rather than just his own.

And he began to feel an odd craving for oil, mixed with high grade with a touch of lead-flavored coolant…

Have you felt cravings like this? Oil Slick asked his mate through their bond, marveled at the disgusting drink his systems seemed to be desiring.

Nightbird rolled her optics. Yes, she replied.

Oil Slick then noticed Ratchet closing his chamber for him. He was slightly annoyed, but with the little energy he had to spare the chemist was grateful too.

"Ok," he heard Ratchet say, "I'm going to go to the surface and call in help."

"But won't it be safer to carry them to the hospital?" Prowl asked.

"It would be, but I'm not bringing two expectant bots up there in the ghetto," the medic gruffed. "Stay with them and I'll call in someone."

Prowl nodded and watched the medic as he left. Then he turned his full attention back on Nightbird and Oil Slick.

Nightbird remained perfectly motionless, since she had the least amount of energy to spare and she still had the youngest sparkling within her. Oil Slick, on the other hand, was feeling a bit awkward about all of this. So he slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position and looked around.

Prowl seemed to detect that Oil Slick felt uncomfortable under his scrutiny, so the black-and-gold ninja, thankfully, glanced away.

A small grunt escaped Oil Slick's vocalizer. He then cast a sideways glance toward his mate. I wonder if this is what it feels like to be bisexual, he said through their bond, making an attempt at humor despite the circumstances. He placed a servo on his chassis for emphasis.

He felt a small pulse in reply from Nightbird, and slowly felt her fall into stasis. He worried if she would ever wake up, but he knew she was trying to conserve energy.

Oil Slick then turned his attention to the twins inside of him. They teetered about in the new, but familiar chamber they knew as their father's spark. Naturally a spark was familiar with the energy signature of both creators. The bonding between the cyber ninjas, however, made the twins completely known to their father's spark.

Hello there, he thought to them, I'm daddy.

He received excited pulsing and jumping in response, practically feeling as if they were cuddling on his spark.


	45. Chapter 45

"They're on their way," the cyber ninjas heard as Ratchet climbed back down. Prowl noticed the old bot seemed even more tenser then before. Really, he couldn't blame him. Ratchet was a father himself and he knew the danger Nightbird and Oilslick were in at the moment.

"Sweet Primus I hope that team gets here soon," the medibot muttered. Prowl laid a reassuring and wordless servo on his shoulder. Earlier, Nightbird, he noticed, had fallen into stasis. Even though she was only trying to preserve energy, Prowl couldn't but worry himself.

"Ratchet, I think Oil Slick can manage, but what about Nightbird?"

Ratchet glanced toward the unconscious femme. He did not respond right away, he simply moved closer to her and pulled out his portable scanner again. "She'll be fine," he murmured as his optics glanced over the readouts. "That is, so long as we can get her to the hospital within the next two hours."

Oil Slick cleared his vocalizor softly. Both Ratchet and Prowl turned in his direction. The chemist was sitting on the ground, his knees up in front of his chassis with his arms wrapped around them. It looked like a self-conscious position, as well as a protective one.

"I just wanted to say..." Oil Slick's optics darted toward his mate, then locked on Ratchet's face. "Thank you for everything you've done." He cocked his head to one side, looking thoughtful. "I am a little surprised you've come here to aide us."

"Well," Ratchet murmured, putting the portable scanner away, "I'm not one to turn away someone who needs help. Besides, if you recall I came here to help the sparklings, and your mate, I didn't come here for you."

Oil Slick nodded. He said nothing more.

One side of Prowl's visor raised in curiousity as he observed the exchange. From their words, and the expressions on their faces, the black-mech ninja deduced that something had happened between them long ago. Prowl had heard the old medic speak of his days during the Great War a few times, and he was pretty sure that Oil Slick's name had come up at least once. But Prowl had no idea what happened.

But the Autobot ninja figured it must not have been pleasent, especially considering the way Ratchet was not looking at Oil Slick now, and Oil Slick kept his own gaze locked on the floor in front of his feet.

Ratchet walked away a bit and leaned against the wall, sighing. It was obvious that he was tired, yet...he seemed a bit occupied too. It was almost as if he was internally battling something. Prowl frowned, knowing it had something to do with Oil Slick.

Silently he came up to Ratchet and leaned next to him on the wall.

"Is something bothering you?"

Ratchet glanced toward Oil Slick, then glanced away. The chemist was no longer looking at them, and didn't even seem to be paying them any attention. Yet both mechs knew better. Oil Slick was a trained ninja himself, and therefore he was keeping an audio receptor on their words, as well as his surroundings in general.

"Let's just say that Oil Slick and I have met before," Ratchet murmured so quietly that Prowl almost didn't hear.

"I deduced as much," Prowl acknowledged. "But what exactly happened?"

Ratchet glanced off, looking down the tunnel. He looked as though he wanted to move away from Oil Slick before telling Prowl anything about what was on his mind. Yet at the same time he didn't want to move, because his patients might need him. And they were his first priority.

"It's... nothing," the old medic finally said, shaking his head. "Just forget about it."

"No, there is something bothering you," Prowl persisted. "Remember, I said that you could talk to me about anything." The ninja then glanced in Oil Slick's direction. "And I have a feeling in the pit of my spark that he knows, too. And maybe he needs to hear it."

Ratchet sighed. Part of him didn't want to talk about it, but part of him did. "Okay, fine," he grumbled. He refused to look at Oil Slick now, although he thought he saw, out of the corner of his optics, the chemist looking at him now.

Ignoring it, Ratchet started his story.

"It was when I was younger, before my encounter with Lockdown. The battle was getting bloody too; I was everywhere trying to tend to wounded soldiers and civilians alike. I was running to one location when..." Ratchet rubbed his temple, wishing Oil SLick would look away.

"Go on," Prowl said gently.

"Well, I met him," Ratchet continued, not even bothering to say the chemist's name. "I tried to fend him off, but then he got out this tube of...cosmic rust, I believe it's called. He tried to throw some at me, but the wind shifted it in his direction. He got rusted up all right, the slagger...anyway, I just about sped off. Yet, I couldn't do it."

At that point Prowl noticed Ratchet's optics glazed over. He would've tried to get him back into focus, but the medic continued.

"I remembered the days when I was just a sparkling: No factions, war, just Cybertron. I thought that if maybe, just maybe, I helped the guy, I'd bring that back. So the bot gave me instructions on how to make the antidote, and I used it to cure him." Ratchet ground his teeth in frustration.

"But the moment he could move, that slagger turned on me."

There was a noise of shuffling feet. Ratchet saw Oil Slick getting up and moving a short distance away. He stayed near his mate, but moved far enough away so that he could slip into the shadows, just a little. Was he ashamed? Or was it that he simply didn't want to hear any more? Neither Ratchet nor Prowl had any way of knowing.

"What happened?" Prowl asked gently, turning his visor to face the old medic again.

"I got hit with his cosmic rust... bad," Ratchet muttered. "If I hadn't still had some of the antidote on me, I would have been a goner." He shook his head a little. "I was then able to take some of the rust, and the antidote, back to headquarters where they were able to analyse it and make more of the antidote."

To their surprise, that was when Oil Slick spoke up. "And that is when I created fear gas instead," he murmured, sounding thoughtful. "Oh, I still use cosmic rust on occasion, but not frequently. Because there is a cure for the antidote, but not for fear gas." He turned his head, peering out of the shadows. There was a grin smirk on his face. "Fear gas has to wear off on his own," he stated grimly.

"Yeah," Ratchet grumbled, narrowing his optics at Oil Slick. "So why the frag are you down here, anyway? It seemed like you enjoyed working for the Decepticons and working with your chemicals."

"Oh, I did for a long time," Oil Slick said. Then he turned and looked toward his bondmate indicatively. "But then... let's just say that other things took priority in my life." He nodded toward Nightbird and placed an indicative servo over his spark.

"In other words you decided you were a family mech now," Ratchet murmured. "Well, I guess I can relate." His expression softened a little.

"I am a bonded mech, and I am a father now," Oil Slick acknowledged. "But also, Nightbird and I simply want to live in peace. We want nothing to do with the Autobots or the Decepticons; we don't want to take a side anymore. We simply want to live our lives in peace."

"You don't need to do that down here," Prowl spoke up, sounding thoughtful. "You could live in a home in Iacon, or perhaps in a more remote area on the world if you wish."

"Frankly, I agree," Ratchet nodded. "You don't seriously want to raise your sparklings down here... do you?" He gestured around the dark tunnels.

Before Oil Slick could answer, a noise was heard from a the opening up ahead. Ratchet was on his peds in a second and ran down to meet the medic team coming ahead.

"Prowl, get Oil Slick to lay down. This is going to be a long labor..."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Starthrust was not exactly enthused about the mission. He hadn't seen much excitement for a while, so a chance to get out where he might get—or at least see—some action sounded ideal. But he was not the least bit happy about going with his cowardly brother.

Especially since Skyjet was already clinging to his arm. "Will you LET GO OF ME?" Starthrust growled at one point, attempting to yank his arm away. "You are getting into my personal space!"

Oh yes, this journey was going to be oh-so-much-fun. Especially since they hadn't even gotten to the space bridge to leave Cybertron yet.

"But outer space is SO SCAREY! What if we see some Decepticons?" Skyjet squeaked. "I wanna stay where it's safe!"

Before Starthrust could retort, he heard footsteps behind him. Impatiently turned to the direction of the noise, which was behind the door of the storage room they were in to get supplies.

"Who's there? I'm busy!" Starthrust growled, still trying to pry off his brother.

The door opened and first one, then two, faces peered into the room. One of them was mostly orange in color and had yellow optics, while the other one was dark blue in color, with a visor over his optics. They were both the same height, and were fairly short even by Autobot standards.

Starthrust stared at them for a moment. "Who in the name of the Allspark are you two?" he demanded. "And what are you doing here?"

The two stepped out and eagerly walked up to Starthrust.

"We being Jetfire and Jetstorm," said the blue one, "and Magnus-bot sent us here to go on mission with you!"

"We be liking to go with Uncle Thrust Star!" the orange bot piped.

Starthrust stared at them with widened optics. "What?" he exclaimed, shocked. "What do you mean by 'Uncle'?"

Both of the Autobots grinned. "Our specs came from you, while you were still the Screaming Star," the blue one said—was he Jetfire? Starthrust wasn't sure.

"And so that makes you like our Uncle," the orange one said cheerfully.

"Ah, right," Starthrust muttered, eyeing them warily. "When did this happen?" he suddenly demanded and searched his own processor, trying to remember.

"When you was captive onboard the Elite Guard ship, after you were captured on Earth!" the blue one said.

"Ah yes," Starthrust then acknowledged, nodding a little. That would make sense, especially since they had done some things to him while he was onboard their vessel. "Well then, uh, which one of you is Jetfire, and which of you is Jetstorm?" he asked. He wanted to clear that up before they actually went anywhere.

"I being Jetfire, Uncle Thrust Star!" said the orange one.

"So, you're Jetstorm?" Starthrust asked pointing to the blue one. He nodded excitedly, which made the seeker frown. Quite frankly peppiness wasn't in the list of things that made him docile.

"Who being the bot on your arm Uncle Thrust Star sir?" Jetstorm asked, noticing for the first time the cowardly mech clinging to Starthrust's arm. He squeaked and tried to hide behind his brother.

"That is Skyjet… your other 'Uncle'," Starthrust growled, casting an annoyed glance toward his arm. He couldn't quite see his brother from the angle he was at, especially since Skyjet was continually trying to hide. "And try to keep my name straight!" Starthrust spat at the twins. "My name is Starthrust."

"Of course, Uncle Thrust Star!" both of the twins said in unison, with a duo salute to boot.

Starthrust sighed, smacking himself lightly on the forehead with his free servo. "Whatever," he muttered. "Now tell me," he growled, "why exactly did Optimus decide to send you two with me?"

"He says we be fit for duty now!" Jetfire exclaimed excitedly.

"Fit for duty now?" Starthrust echoed, narrowing his optics. "What do you mean? Why haven't you been fit for duty up until now?"

The two smiles dimmed a bit, and Jetstorm shuffled his feet. It was a few seconds before one of them said anything.

"Well," Jetstorm started, "when Megatron be having us prisoner-"

"-we be scared from that, a little," Jetstorm finished.

"Oh," the former Decepticon traitor muttered. "Well, I suppose it won't hurt to have you along," he added quickly, giving a small shrug. He then found that even doing something as simple as shrugging was hard to do, with his brother clinging to his arm the way he was.

"But," Starthrust added quickly, "you will have to follow my every order, without question or hesitation. And you both had better be sure you're up for this, and that you've put whatever mental scars you have behind you. The last thing I need are lagging slaggers. Is that understood?"

With determined looks on their faceplates and hardened expressions in their optics, Jetfire and Jetstorm saluted.

"Sir yes sir!" they said solidly in unison.

"Right." Starthrust nodded, then began to move forward, dragging his brother along with him. "Grab those supplies," he said, pointing, "and let's get going!"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Red Alert kept an optic on her portable scanner while Perceptor worked. She was his assistant at the moment, and she wanted to stay alert in case anything unexpected happened to their yellow patient. He seemed stable for the moment, but as a field medic, Red Alert had learned that it was best to stay alert for anything.

Red Alert was disrupted from her thoughts when Moonracer, the nurse, walked in.

"Pardon me, but the patient's friends are still in the waiting room, and they want to see him. Are they allowed to yet?"

Red Alert looked to Perceptor. He seemed calm enough, and had been for a while, but she knew better than to allow it without his permission.

"I am almost finished here," he stated in that monotonic voice of his. He didn't even look up from what he was doing. "The patient will require a few mega-cycles of rest once I have verified that the injection has circulated throughout his entire body. He may receive visitors once he wakes up."

Red Alert nodded and then looked at Moonracer indicatively. "Got it," the second femme murmured, and slipped out the door to pass on the news.

"I am finished," Perceptor finally stated, after a couple of cycles had gone by. "We got to him in time; there is no discernable damage or alternation to his circuitry."

"Then he's not going to become a techno-organic?" Red Alert asked.

"No he is not," Perceptor acknowledged. "The venom has been neutralized, and I have removed the organic growths that were beginning to develop. This Autobot is, and always will be, fully robotic." With that, he simply left the room without another word.

"Yeah, goodbye to you too," Red Alert muttered under her breath as she watched him disappear from the room.

Red Alert scanned him one last time, just to make sure. Nothing came up, though his spark pulse was lighter than it should of been. She frowned a bit. If the venom and any organic tissues were taken out, he should of been fine.

Then again, Perceptor only said that the mech was no longer contaminated.

"Maybe it's the drugs he used, and the strain the venom caused on Bumblebee's body that wakened him," Red Alert thought with a shrug. She gave her patient one last, thoughtful look, then sat down in a chair beside the medical berth. If something was afoot, or if something went wrong, she wanted to be there.


	46. Chapter 46

Bumblebee's optical sensors flickered on and off for a moment as he gradually regained consciousness. The first thing he became aware of was that he had a massive processor ache. For that matter, the rest of him didn't feel all that swell either.

"Ohhhh," he groaned softly as his head moved back and fourth, trying to shake off some of his disorientation. He pressed a servo against his helm, and felt a gentle hand reaching up to touch his wrist.

"Take it easy," a feminine voice told him. "You're going to be alright. You simply had a bit of… organic poisoning."

"Huh?" Bumblebee glanced up, seeing the red-and-white femme standing over him.

Red Alert nodded reassuringly. "You're going to be okay," she repeated with some emphasis. "Do you remember what happened?"

Bumblebee thought hard for a moment, even though his processor ached a bit still. He recalled being in the apartment, with Wasp and...

"Didn't...didn't Waspinator...sting me?" the yellow mech murmured, wincing slightly from the ache.

"Just relax," Red Alert told him softly. "And yes, he did. But don't worry, I heard on good authority that he has been locked up somewhere for a while until the authorities can decide what to do with him."

"But what about me?" Bumblebee yelped in panic as he quickly raised up to his elbows, "I'm not orga-uhg..."

Suddenly he flopped on his back with a loud thud and groaned. After sitting up like that he felt extremely dizzy and his pulse seemed to flutter uncomfortably. Bumblebee shifted a bit from all these things his body was doing to him. Red Alert placed a firm but gentle grip on his shoulder, keeping him still.

"Please," she said, "You need rest; your spark has been...well, overexcited from the venom, and..." Red Alert sighed. "We're not for sure yet, but it's possible that your spark has been permanently weakened."

Bumblebee blinked. "W-what does that mean?" he stammered a little, self-consciously putting a servo over his spark chamber. "Am I going to be okay?"

"You're going to live, and you're going to be fine," Red Alert repeated herself again, firmly but patiently. She was used to having to keep reassuring patients, especially as she was trying to deliver bad news. "But if your spark has been weakened, you may need to take it easy, and make sure you don't over-exert yourself."

Laying his head to the side, he sighed.

"Can I still have visitors though?" Bumblebee asked, fondly thinking of Sari.

Red Alert stood and nodded, a small smile crossing her cool features. "Of course," she told him. "In fact, you have a visitor waiting just outside." With that, she turned and moved toward the door, leaning out just enough to poke her head out. "You can come in," she spoke to someone waiting just outside.

Just then, the red-haired girl peered in through the doorway, looking up at Bumblebee. Then in the very next instant, she was at her boyfriend's side, and used the jets in her feet to boost herself up onto the side of the bed.

"Hey there Bee," she said, reaching up and touching his helm affectionately, "how're you feeling?" She vaguely registered the fact that Red Alert was slipping out of the room to give them some privacy.

Despite some of the dulling pains he was receiving, Bumblebee smiled back. "Well, I'm not dead," he joked. But Sari frowned.

"Bee," she started, placing a hand on his cheek, "I was terrified! I thought you were going to die, and...I just don't want to lose anymore people that I care about."

"Aw Sari," Bumblebee gently placed a hand around her, holding her close. Ever since her upgrade, he found that he could afford to hold her a little more firmly, enabling him to give her a proper hug instead of having to treat her like she was made of porcelain. Her upgrade had enhanced her body as well as her armor, making her almost as durable as an Autobot. He was still careful, but he no longer had to be as worried about accidentally crushing her.

"I'm okay," he added softly. "You never need to worry about me, you know. And don't you worry, we'll still make that trip to Earth once I'm outta here, okay?"

Sari bit her lip and lowered her eyes. So much had happened these past few months, and she was scared of what would happen next. Still, Bumblebee was still alive, and she was thankful for such a friend. She pecked him on the faceplate.

"Fine, but ONLY if it's safe for you, okay?"

Bumblebee leaned in and pressed his lip components against the side of her head, giving her an affectionate smooch in return. "Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere until the doc gives me a clean bill of health," he said, grinning. He tried to make it sound like he was simply doing it on her behalf so she wouldn't worry. But in truth, he was so achy right now that he didn't even feel like getting up. Not to mention his spark did feel a bit weak.

Content, Sari grinned. "Good then."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Oil Slick waved Prowl off, refusing the black-and-gold mech's assistance. He then lay down on flat on the ground right beside his sparkmate, glancing over toward her. She was deep in stasis lock, reserving her own energy and thus protecting preserving the life that was growing within her.

A team of medics approached from the opposite end of the corridor, looking as though they were prepared for worst-case-scenario as well as getting the mother-to-be out of the tunnels. They had only one stretcher, obviously intended for the sparked femme, (they did not know that Oil Slick had taken two of the sparklings into his own spark chamber, Ratchet knew; such a thing was a very, very unusual occurrence anyway) but they had also brought protoform bodies, just in case they were needed immediately.

The old medical bot rubbed the back of his helm warily as he glanced at the scene before him. As far as he was concerned, the sooner they got the sparklings delivered, and got both Nightbird and Oil Slick to the hospital, the better.

"Okay, set everything down here and prepare to assist me," Ratchet said aloud, motioning to the medics. "We're going to deliver the sparklings right here and now. Prowl, stand back; we can handle it from here."

Prowl seemed to melt away into the shadows until only the soft glow of his visor could be seen. He watched the entire scene intently, remaining completely silent and motionless.

With the smooth motions and skilled nature of a veteran doctor Ratchet begun to carefully pry open Nightbird's spark chamber. Because of her low energy, it was best to deliver the sparkling in her first. Then after a few moments it snapped open, revealing a miniscule and softly shining orb wavering away from it's mother's chamber. In the dimness of the underground it almost resembled a star, but a dying one at that.

"Quick, give me a protoform and an IV!" Ratchet ordered. Immediately a medic brought to him what he asked, a needle and energon bag connected to the chamber of the bot-to-be. Then ever so gently and warily the red mech cupped the small spark and disconnected it from Nightbird. He heard an almost inaudible groan from her. Still he proceeded to place the spark into the chamber.

Once he did, the protoform took on its own shape and colors.

Ratchet gestured toward one of the medics to close up Nightbird's chassis and to make sure her condition was stabilizing. He wanted to make sure the sparkling was alright first, considering how long it had been inside its weakened mother. Out of the corner of his optic he saw the other medic attaching an energon IV to Nightbird as well, to help replenish her energy supply, but he kept his main focus on the sparkling for the moment.

The old medic kept his scanners on the little sparkling. For a few moments the readings seemed to fluxuate, then they gradually stabilized. He then smiled. "It's a mech," he murmured aloud, mostly to himself.

Oil Slick glanced in his direction, then slowly reached out and took Nightbird's hand into his own, giving it a little squeeze. He thought he felt her respond, but he wasn't sure. Was she coming around? He couldn't tear his optics away from their newborn sparkling to look at her.

Before he could take a good look though, Ratchet handed the sparkling to the other medics and turned to Oil Slick.

"Yer turn," he gruffed.

Oil Slick found himself squeezing his mate's servo more firmly. Perhaps it was for support. He heard her moan beside him. Yep, she was definitely coming to. He could feel it through their bond. "Is this… going to hurt?" he asked, looking up at the old medic with uncertainty.

Remembering Arcee's own pain during her delivery, Ratchet couldn't help but chuckle. "Well, you think it would hurt if I was pulling a life force outta yer spark?"

Oil Slick seemed to think about that for a moment. "Perhaps?" He hadn't meant it to sound like a question, but it did.

Now Nightbird was fully awake. She sat up a little, then murmured into his audio sensor, "Trust me, it's going to hurt." Then her optics searched the area and then locked onto the sparkling laying on the stretcher. Her optics then lit up with warmth that Oil Slick swore he'd never seen before.

"Is that one of our babies, Oil Slick?"

Her mate nodded, but he then felt Ratchet opening his chamber. So far, he only felt...violated. Oil Slick didn't show it but the was nervous. When would it hurt? How bad was it? Did he have to wait this long to feel it? It was killing him!

But suddenly he yelped out in pain. His chamber was now open and two little sparks were tugging away from his own life force.

Ratchet muttered something under his breath and snapped at one of the medics, ordering one of them to assist. Then together, Ratchet and the medic he'd summoned each took one of the sparklings gently, trapping it carefully between their hands. Oil Slick let out an involuntary yell as they were pulled away from his spark. It felt like they were clinging to him for dear life, and a trail of energy could be seen coming from his spark and attaching to each of them, like a pair of strings that simply didn't want to let go.

"Stubborn little sparklings," Ratchet murmured. "Alright, bring those other two protoform bodies over here," he snapped to a couple of the other medics. "Okay… and we're going to have to cut the lines. This is gonna hurt," he added for Oil Slick's benefit.

Oil Slick tensed even more than he already was. He felt Nightbird grabbing his servo with both of her hands, and she leaned over to kiss his facial plating, murmuring gently into his audio sensor.

Finally, someone snapped the connection between him and the twins. Oil Slick nearly screamed and fell limp. He was extremely weak now.

"Get an energon IV on him!" Ratchet snapped at one of the medics, as he and his current assistant gently moved the sparklings over to the other two protoform bodies.

With more willingness, each spark was guided to its own protoform, and once locked in the chamber the bots took form. Once the transformation was done Ratchet and the other medic each took one.

"Twins, and both femmes," Ratchet announced to the now worn couple. He then ordered that Oil Slick and Nightbird be taken to the hospital for a look over. As they were quickly packing up, an assistant approached the mech.

"Sir, the sparkling mech is having trouble functioning on its own! We have him stabilized, but we need to take him to the hospital," he explained.

"Alright," Ratchet said, instantly ready to take action. "I think we should put Oil Slick on the stretcher. Prowl, you carry Nightbird. And we'll carry the sparklings," he said, indicating the two medics who were each holding one of the twins and the smaller sparkling—the one who was, for all practical purposes, a runt.

Oil Slick growled softly, glancing toward his sparkmate. He didn't exactly like the idea of another bot—especially someone who wasn't even a medic—touching his mate. But then his systems began to slow down and, despite the boost that the energon IV was giving him, he slipped into stasis lock. It was his body's response to the strain and it was its own response to try and reserve energy.

"Let's move!" Ratchet barked.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Starthrust had suspected before he left Cybertron that his companions, especially Skyjet, were going to drive him thoroughly bonkers before all of this was over. Now he was nearly positive that they were going to drive him totally bonkers.

They were currently on an Elite Guard vessel. They had left Cybertron and were bound for location where the mysterious Decepticon signals had been detected, and Skyjet was worse than ever—as if that was even possible. Whatever he had seen or detected when they had been out there before still had him terrified, and right now he wasn't just annoying, he was almost unbearable.

And the jet twins weren't helping matters either in some ways. Oh they were far more competent and less annoying, but they were a bit on edge too. Jetfire seemed to get a tad bit jumpy at nearly any large asteroid or space debris they passed by, and Jetstorm occasionally pestered "Uncle Thrust Star" with commentary on their progress or by asking questions.

Starthrust silently reminded himself that at least the jet brothers had a legitimate excuse to be edgy; they had apparently been mentally scarred from what happened to them while they were in Megatron's clutches. Nevertheless, that didn't make this situation any less aggravating.

Then from behind him, on the other side of the room, Skyjet gave a terrifying screech. He was pointing out the main window of the control room, crouching on his knees and blabbering something unintelligible under his breath. Starthrust could practically see the terror beaming from his brother's optics.

"What be scaring Uncle Jet Sky?" Jetfire asked worryingly. Both him and Jetstorm were caught off guard by Skyjet's sudden fit.

With an irritated huff Starthrust looked towards the direction that his clone was pointing. He frowned. There were only stray asteroids and space dust, with an orange planet containing rings somewhere off in the distance.

Then again, was the planet there on their maps?

"Jetstorm," Starthrust ordered, "Check the maps on the ship's database for this quadrant."

"Yes Uncle Thrust Star, Sir!" the blue-and-gray Autobot exclaimed, and dashed over to the nearest console to do as he was told.

Starthrust rolled his optics, but said nothing.

After a few moments, Jetstorm glanced up from the console and looked toward Starthrust, his optics widening. "Sir, the planet isn't in the databanks!" he exclaimed.

Frowning now, Starthrust leaned over another console and looked closely at the sensor readouts. After a moment he realized that one thing was for sure; this wasn't an ordinary planet. It was actually giving off a powerful energy signature.

At first he thought it might have been the kind of energy one would see when detecting a civilization on a planet. If a fairly advanced society was using a collective energy source, or several energy sources along the surface of a world, that would radiate energy. But this wasn't like that; it was almost as if the planet itself was emanating its own energy signature.

Almost as if… it had a spark, and its own power source. But that would mean…

…It was alive?

Starthrust shook his head. Surely he was reading too much into this. Or analyzing it too much.

"Bring us in closer," he then ordered. "Very carefully," he then added.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

A low rumble emanated from the very core of Unicron's being, sending ripples throughout his entire frame. Thus, he trembled slightly with anticipation. To those who were within his giant, planet-form, it felt like a mini earth-quake was going on.

Galvatron stirred. Had he been in recharge? Or perhaps stasis lock? Or had he been deactivated until such a time that Unicron deigned to awaken him for his own purpose? The very thought caused Galvatron to seethe inwardly. As if the mighty Megatron could truly be treated as nothing more than a mere puppet!

"Galvatron, my servant," Unicron spoke with confidence and authority, "enemies are approaching. You must be ready."

The former Decepticon leader ground his dental plating together. He hated to be ordered about, but what choice did he have?

"What… is your… command?" Galvatron grated through clenched teeth. Oh how he hated this.


	47. Chapter 47

Galvatron felt the metallic deck plating tremor beneath his feet as Unicron rumbled yet again. Part of his processor wondered if this was simply the giant, planet-sized robot's way of asserting his own authority, or of reminding everyone who might be onboard just how large and powerful he was. Frankly, Galvatron wouldn't put either past Unicron.

After a moment the rumbles and tremors subsided, and the giant robot's voice boomed. "Galvatron, your troops await you in the central chamber within me. Go to them, and attack the Autobot ship that is approaching. If possible, bring the occupants to me online. If they resist too much, destroy them and bring me their remains. Either way, I will remake them into part of my servant army, as I have remade you and your fellow Decepticons."

With little choice, Galvatron did as he was ordered. He wasn't familiar with the...lay out, if you could call it that, of the tunnels and such that ran through the entire being of the evil god, but it felt as though something was leading his spark in the direction of the central chamber.

That's when Galvatron realized something: Unicron literally controlled him, in spark, processor, and body. He gritted his dental plating and swore he felt the slightest of tremors course through again, as if the plane was snickering at his own misfortune.

Still he continued-or rather, was lead-to his comrades. He wondered what had become of them, looks wise anyway. Had they been merely fixed, transformed like him, upgraded? Or what if they were changed completely? Galvatron never exactly cared much for appearances so long as his followers were loyal and did as he commanded. But from the little he had done these past solar cycles, the curiosity consumed him and was almost a purpose for the former tyrant.

When he finally arrived, nothing could have shocked him more.

"What...have you done?" Galvatron whispered hoarsely, looking over what used to be his command.

Unicron chuckled, amused by his minion's reaction. It was a deep, unpleasant sound. "Why, I remade them, of course."

Galvatron continued to stare at the bots before him. Indeed, they definitely were the same ones he had been with prior to the destruction of Omega Supreme. And they had been put back together and repaired very well, but there was definitely something wrong with them.

For one thing, they only vaguely had some of their original colors, shining dully through the sickening gray color that all transformers turned when they died. Only these bots were not dead; their optics glowed red, which seemed to be the only thing that suggested they were alive at all, except for the faint glow from their sparks that could be seen somewhat through their chassis's. They stared straight ahead, their expressions blank and lifeless, as if their only purpose was to see, hear, and obey commands.

"Are they… alive?" Galvatron found himself asking in spite of himself. He had to wonder, did he actually have an army here, or were they half online and half in stasis lock or something?

"Technically, yes," Unicron replied in an almost bored tone. "However, any connection between the spark and the body and processor is eliminated."

Clenching his servos at his sides, Galvatron found himself seething as he continued to stare at his Decepticons—or were they even Decepticons anymore? They looked to be no more useful than the maintenance droids that existed to serve on space vessels. Worse than that, these were bots who'd had their minds stripped from them. They were no more than puppets!

As if in afterthought, Unicron then added, "I only left your spark, processor and body completely connected because I needed a fully aware bot to lead this team. I don't need any of the others to retain full awareness; it would only hinder things."

As in us rebelling? Galvatron thought to himself. However, he felt the entire room vibrate violently as if there was a quake.

"DON'T EVEN TRY YOU WORTHLESS SCRAP! IF I BRING YOU TO MY MERCY, YOU DO AS I COMMAND!" Unicron's voice thundered.

Galvatron had fallen to the floor, but he noticed his small army hadn't even budged an inch. He quickly rose to his feet.

"Now...go." Unicron's voice was packed with authority, leaving no room for discussion and especially none for argument or debate.

Before he could transform, he found the old Magnus hammer floating beside him, and noticed it had taken a grayish hue like that of his band. Soon he flew out of the planet-sized god through a small opening followed by the other former Decepticons.

I shall lead you to the ship, then you handle the rest my loyal slave, Galvatron heard Unicron in his head.

Yeah, as if he had any choice to be anything but loyal. Galvatron permitted himself a growl of displeasure, along with a few thoughts that were anything but complimentary. Still, he was apparently the only Decepticon present who had the ability to think, and he was being controlled like a puppet on a string. The only freedom he had was his own processor and his own thoughts, so he was going to do what he pleased and think whatever he wished of his new "master".

However, if Unicron was still monitoring his thoughts, perhaps the planet-god had chosen not to act in any way. Maybe he simply didn't care, so long as Galvatron was out to do his bidding, or perhaps he was limited from doing much while his slaves were outside of him. Galvatron figured he would have to ponder this more later; right now, as much as he hated it, he had a mission to accomplish.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

With the aide of Ratchet, Prowl, and the team of medics, both Oil Slick and Nightbird, along with their sparklings, arrived safely at the Iacon hospital. The three sparklings were immediately moved into the sparkling care area while Oil Slick and Nightbird were moved into one of the standard rooms, where they could be given more energon and a general check over.

Red Alert, who had just finished checking on Bumblebee again, was mildly surprised to see all the ruckus. She immediately went into action, going to assist with the sparklings.

In the meantime, Ratchet and a couple of medical assistants proceeded to give Nightbird and Oil Slick a thorough examination, and successfully gave them each a boost in energon. Ratchet was especially careful when he examined their sparks, knowing that their life source was the main thing that he needed to watch. Both their sparks had been forced to endure a lot of strain, after all. Especially Oil Slick's; a mech was not exactly designed to handle the carrying of sparklings, although he'd only had to do it for a few minutes.

In the end, however, Ratchet deduced that they were both fine. But they would both need bed rest for a while in order to regain their strength and to give their sparks a chance to recover.

Both of them wanted to know how their sparklings were doing, and Ratchet told them that he would go and check on them immediately. He certainly hoped that the smallest one was doing okay. So he left the room and had every intention of going to the sparkling care center… only to be completely distracted before he could do more than take a single step down the hall.

The figure which distracted him almost crashed into him, them grabbed onto his arm with a frantic, iron grip. Completely taken aback, Ratchet found himself staring down into the face that was so panicked with wide, wild optics, that he almost didn't recognize her at first.

"Dreamer!" he gasped, startled. "What is the matter? Are you alright?" He'd never seen his adoptive daughter look so terrorized before. Then he noticed the energon leaking down the front of her chassis, and he immediately assumed the worst. "Oh Primus… Dreamer, you're bleeding!"

"Oh Ratchet!" Dreamer wailed, and clung tightly against her father's torso plating. "I didn't know what to do! Arcee left to take Skids on a short walk and then I couldn't find her so I didn't know what else to do and so I came here! What's happening to me? Am I DYING?" She spoke so fast that, if it weren't for her hysteria, she might have sounded like a feminine version of Blurr.

After some of the shock had worn off, Ratchet finally realized what was happening, and it hit him hard. He never truly realized before how much he had cared for Dreamer; in a way, she was his little girl, and now...

"C'mon," the old bot said calmly, "I'll take you into a room, and when we get there place a rag onto your chassis and I'll explain everything, okay?"

Dreamer whimpered, nodding against his torso. She was still scared, but somehow he seemed to know what was going on. Since he sounded calm, she knew that it couldn't be anything too serious. "Okay," she finally murmured.

They went into one of the empty hospital rooms and Ratchet helped her onto the medical bunk. As he went to get a rag from one of the cabinets, part of his processor remembered the sparklings he had intended to check on. However, he figured that they could wait. After all, if they were in any danger, someone would have summoned him by now. That probably meant they were okay and in very good hands. Besides, Red Alert was with them; that alone made him feel better.

"Alright," Ratchet said as he approached her with the rag in his servo, "let's put this over the edge of your chassis, it'll contain the energon leakage."

Dreamer nodded as she placed it over the leak. "Am...am I sick?" she asked with worry in her optics. Ratchet merely grunted and rubbed a servo on the back of his head, sighing.

"Well?"

"Dreamer...don't you know how sparklings are...made?"

The young femme blinked her optics, not quite understanding what that had to do with anything. "Well… I know that it has something to do with, um… two sparks merging or something," she murmured.

Ratchet sighed. Of course he would get stuck explaining something like this. Arcee was the mother, and the teacher, and most importantly of all, a femme. But of course, she wasn't here right now. So that meant it was up to him to explain it. At least he was a doctor, though; that made it a bit easier, he supposed.

"Yeah, that is a big part of it," the old medic finally said. "But don't you know about the maternal energon cycle that happens in a femme, once she reaches the age of maturity?"

Dreamer blinked. "Uhhh…"

Ratchet sighed. "Obviously you haven't," he muttered, rubbing the edge of his helm with his hand, warily.

"Well… what does it mean?" his daughter asked, looking completely clueless. "Why am I bleeding?"

The bot really didn't want to explain bonding or interfacing with Dreamer; he'd leave that to Arcee later. Carefully, Ratchet tried to explain it in terms to where he didn't need to bring it up.

"You see, Dreamer, over the course of an orn or so, energon is stored up inside a femme's spark chamber, in case she bonds and becomes sparked...and if she doesn't, that extra energon is leaked out through the chassis."

For a few moments the small femme seemed to be processing the information she just received, rag still pressed against her. "So...do I just have to sit here with the rag until it's over or something?"

Before the older bot could answer, they both heard footsteps approaching. Prowl peered into the room as he passed by, then when he spotted Ratchet he stepped into the room.

"Ratchet," the ninja said, looking directly at the medic, "Red Alert asked me to find you. She said that all three sparklings, including the smallest one, are stable."

"Oh that's good, thank Primus," Ratchet murmured in relief.

Prowl smiled slightly, then his visor tipped in Dreamer's direction. His smile vanished when he saw her holding a rag over her chassis, near her spark chamber. The rag was drenched with blue, liquid energon. "Are you alright, Dreamer?" he asked softly with concern.

Dreamer stared at the black-and-gold mech for a moment. Then she glanced down at her chassis. That was when some sort of connection formed in her processor, whether it was subconscious or otherwise. She stared down at herself for a moment and then looked back at Prowl, the memory of when she kissed him flashing vividly through her processor….

Her facial plating turned deep scarlet and she turned away hastily, covering herself up with her arms. She began to cry.

Prowl, not entirely understanding what had happened, gave Ratchet a questioning look. Instead of getting an answer he was rushed out by the med-bot. Once the cyber ninja was gone Ratchet sat down beside Dreamer, giving her a comforting hug.

"This st-stinks!" she managed to sputter out. Her father rubbed the side of her arms. Arcee was definitely going to have to talk with her later. He maybe a med-bot, but he was no femme.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The Jet Twins were now in charge of scanning the perimeter around the planet.

Starthrust himself was looking out through the front screen as his brother continued to whimper in the corner.

"Uncle Thrust Star, sir!" Jetstorm exclaimed suddenly, causing the team leader to glance sharply in his direction. Something about the blue bot's tone told him that he had found something.

"What is it?" Starthrust asked, taking a couple of steps toward the smaller bot. He then craned his head, attempting to peer at the scanner readouts that Jetstorm was looking at.

"I think there be multiple targets coming toward us!" Jetstorm replied eagerly. "Definitely not asteroids, but too small to be ships!"

Skyjet made a loud whimper, throwing his servos over his face. "We're all going to go offline! We're gonna be DESTROYED!" He then began to babble incoherently, and no one could understand what he was saying anymore.

Then before Starthrust could even make an order there was a sudden pounding all over the exterior of the ship. Everything rattled back and forth and the emergency lights and alarms sounded off. Everyone was trying to steady themselves and prepare for attack, it ended as soon as it started.

Then everything was shut down. There were no lights and any machinery that was on at the time was no longer working. Skyjet was heard practically sobbing in his spot, "Th-th-they're gonn-n-na get us!" The figuratively yellow-bellied bot continued to sob.

Starthrust, for one, was greatly perplexed by what just happened. But if there was one thing he learned, it was that if an outside force shut off your energy, then there was going to be—

"AN ATTACK!" the twins shouted in unison. Turning around to the front Starthrust saw some great bulking bot ram against the screen repeatedly. He jumped back in a defensive position with Jetfire and Jetstorm, but quickly leapt forward as two other bots fell through the air shaft above them.

Now that there were intruders in their darkened cockpit the fighting began. Although there was little light the Autobots maneuvered according to the spark signatures they detected.

Starthrust threw his clenched servo, connecting it with something solid. And it was a good thing he did because that something had been about to do the same to him a mere moment ago. The seeker then growled softly, feeling as though he had dented his servo slightly. Yet that was the least of his worries at the moment; it sounded like the twins were in trouble, and so was Skyjet—then again, it was always difficult to tell if Skyjet was really in trouble or just, well, being his usual self.

The team leader turned on his heel and, using his sensors, he tried to analyze the scene before him. It didn't take long for him to realize that they were outnumbered on their own ship. Apparently the intruders had come in through the doors and vents.

Quite suddenly, the emergency lights kicked back in, illuminating the entire bridge in a dim, eerie glow. It was then that Starthrust could see that both of the jet twins were effectively pinned down under a couple of bots who looked more dead than alive.

Skyjet was immobilized… except by his own fear. All of the freakish bots on the bridge—bots that looked like they had come straight from the pit—had been enough to scare him even more senseless than he already was. He let out one final scream… then passed out, crashing onto the floor with a noisy thud.

Starthrust's air intakes grew ragged as he tried to think up a new strategy. As he slowly stepped back, he felt himself bump into something...or someone. Slowly turning his head back, the mech indeed saw another bot out of the corner of his optics. In a nanosecond he zipped around to confront him.

At first he brought up his arms to use his laser cannons, but lowered them in shock as he recognized the face. Anger, confusion, and absolute hatred filled him up.

"Megatron?"

The mech before him grinned maliciously, his red optics glowing a bit more as his hammer cackled from energy.

"Galvatron."


End file.
